


Two Souls United by the Threads of Time

by Eluvian



Category: Enderal, Enderal (Video Game), Enderal: The Shards of Order
Genre: "My Fair Lady", Aged Man's Abode, Aged Man's Manor, Bard Songs, Brave New World - Freeform, Crystal Forest, Dancing Nomad, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Every Day Like The Last, Every Day Like The Last - All Parts, F/M, Family Issues, Game Plot, Honesty, Hugs, Imagination, In The Lion's Den (mission), Jespar dies, Jespar lives again, Living Temple, Meeting Adila, Memories, Myrad, Papership, Path of the Dark One, Playing Gods, Pyrean Railways, Sacrifice (not) Ending, Sexual Content, Singing, Star City, Storm - Freeform, Survival, Tea time with Calia, Truth hurts, Uncertainty, Unconfessed Feelings, Unconsciousness, bliss, flight home, haunting past, living again, long life, lots of hugs, new life, philosophising, splitting up, train
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-10 16:53:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 36,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13505748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eluvian/pseuds/Eluvian
Summary: The story of the young Prophetess' strife with a human who's worth more than he believes.





	1. No day like the last

**Author's Note:**

> I love this game, I really love this game, but there are just some options that were not included. But fanfics are always the solutions. I hope that the so much joy and other intensive emotions are felt will be perceptible.  
> I associate lots of pieces of music with this story, and though they not always fit into the genre of fantasy, their message might be connected.  
> So here you go, this I believe sums up most of Jespar's life philosophy. 
> 
> https://youtu.be/6GcxdOmD9CM

 

_"I early learned the power of love,_

_But many times I've failed,_

_As I could free myself from my chains_

_..._

_Responsibility, it must win over happiness"_

 

She wanted to slap him.

That would have probably been a kind of a dramatic beginning, but somehow the notion stirred up in her every time she looked at him. The way he looked… the way he looked at her… the way he seemed to perfectly comprehend everything that ever happened and could ever happen in the world. The way that he wanted to express this as if nothing was more natural in the world than sharing your corrupted world view with a woman.

’Forget that you’re a woman’, she tried to tell herself. ’You’re on a mission. One of the parts of the mission is to get along with your mates. Don’t let him hate you.’

Fine. So she decided to only answer or comment anything particularly certain, when it was positive.

She sits on the chair, listens to the music and his voice and thinks about why does she have to hear it. Why. It feels as if it could be anyone sitting there. Maybe there have been others. Many others. What were their answers? What is the right answer? "Shut up, you drunken idiot"? It was one of them. "Yes, yes, you’re probably right, but I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m just listening to your voice because it sounds so good and I don’t care about the words"?

She was afraid of her thoughts, they felt so real, even though they were only imaginations, like those of some parallel realities… But since she was able to hear the past, the present, the other presents, the future, whatever, maybe it had something to do with it. She heard these voices, voices of women, almost felt their smiles on her face, and it made it very hard to concentrate.

The words just came out of her mouth. Words she didn’t think through, or if she did, she realised and was totally aware of the fact that she shouldn’t say them aloud. ’For what it’s worth, I’d be happy if you stayed. The city could use more good-looking mercenaries.’ Why did she have to say that? Why?

Although, what did these words change? He accepted them like a natural boost to his already bursting ego, and not even a blink of an eye or a blush showed any kind of surprised. He must have heard sentences like this every day. Especially here in the Dancing Nomad. With this in her mind, she tried to focus on playing the role. Pretending she did not care who else heard compliments from him and who else got this glance, that caressed you like you were the most beautiful being on the world, but only for this moment, and in the next, somebody else will take your place. She decided she would  only watch, not touch, even if it hurt a little, he looked really nice. Really nice. And perhaps during their journeys she would find out more.

Yes, he sad that he would leave. But would he? It was such a simple solution that it felt unlikely, and deep down she really, really hoped he would change his mind, or that they would have no empty cabins left on that ship. _Just a few more weeks. Or days. I can make him change his mind._

_But why do I want to?_

 

*******

 

She almost envied Jespar. Sometimes it would have been easier to look at life like that, she wondered as she walked towards the tower were they were to meet. For some reason the closer she got, the more often she needed to breathe, and when she saw his figure leaning against the wall, unknowingly a smile spread across her face. Somehow she always knew he wouldn’t leave, and when that kid handed her the notice, she immediately suggested who wrote it. And, of course, the guess was right. My fair lady.

„Come upstairs. You won’t regret it.”

You won’t regret it. You won’t regret it. The words sent an unexplainable chill down her spine and her steps felt heavy as she walked up the stairs. But not exhaustively heavy, happily heavy, with expectations.

I changed my mind. Of course you did.

And then she listened. And drank his poison which she accepted only because she didn’t want him to hate her. Bitterly she thought that it might have been her greatest motive. Not to be hated. Shivering, she thought of her nightmare. What were the reasons of those words? Would Jespar understand any of this if she told her? Or would he only offer his usual solution for every problem?

She new she seemed lavish and happy. That’s what she tried to be. Wine burned her throat and her heartbeat increased with every drop of it, or every word, or every second of time. He talked and talked and talked, seemingly awaiting for some kind of confirmation, but again why? She didn’t ask. She did as she was told. By whom? She didn’t know. But they were awards, even that someone was talking to her, and that somebody was actually flesh and blood, radiating some kind of joy of life that she never experienced, never felt as belonging to her, and never even wanted to experience, but enjoyed at the same time. Awards. The satisfied smiles on his face, the self-assured sentences and yawns and laughs. Jespar was like a child. A very naughty one. And kind of a stereotypical one, to be honest, but sometimes it’s good to view a stereotype up close.

Unfortunately that was not what she signed up for.

The child-mercenary was on his way then. Again. She wondered how many of his hours did he spend thinking about the future or their conversations or her. He never seemed troubled by anything. Ever. And that was suspicious. But on  the other hand, it made it somewhat easier to deal with him. He brought an aura of pleasant negligence with him and after a while it seemed as if even the clouds were floating happier in the sky.

Or at least they seemed happy. Maybe the clouds pretended that it was easy to float. Drunken clouds.

She needed a sleep as well.

But sleep didn’t always bring rest, quite the opposite, so she tried to restrict it as much as she could. She was soon awake, pretending that she had absolutely no dreams, she dragged herself back to the real world and concentrated on what to do. There was much to learn. Faces, names, places to go to, browse among armors and weapons like Kiléan girls choose which colour of skirts to wear, blue or red or maybe purple… It all seemed like a game, yes, and she had a title, but had to do nothing to gain it, maybe that was the reason that she couldn’t value it enough. Prophetess. A ridiculous word. She was no prophetess, she was just a pointy-eared tall girl at whom many glanced strangely and with discrimination. Otherwise, the whole Order looked at her like a prodigy, the grandmaster’s personal favorite. She tried not to listen to their words. She knew she would have to prove herself. These times she wished to be able to feel like Jespar, not to care about what anyone says…

_Good question, if he doesn’t care about anything, why do I care about what to say to him?_

These dilemmas made up her day when she was not away treasure hunting.

Well, she was always on a kind of treasure hunt, only some treasures were objects, while others... well, who knew.


	2. Piano and candlelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kind of quick overview of the adventure at the Aged Man's (Abode) Manor, which Jes likes to sing about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pain, loss, hope. I don't know what could be in the fleshless observer's mind, but I just love the atmosphere in his house. He can be associated with some kind of rebellious, pagan and beautiful worldview, so here you go: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=06H_6oI4EK4

"You will travel to the manor with Dal’Varek.”

Dal’Varek. When Constantine Firespark first called him Joseph, she would believe it was his real name. It was not like he wouldn’t lie if he thought it would benefit him or if there were a reason to it. The same way she became Mydame de Luna. Although, for that part, she was sure it was partly to amuse her. Jespar had to be sure it would turn out. But why not? Why miss the fun if you can have it? Yeah, she understood the philosophy, and she laughed, as she did when as kids her mates dragged her into some kind of trick. She didn’t like deception, but she could laugh at it, if it was (almost) harmless. Naiveté, Jespar would probably say.

Dal'Varek. Every time they said this family name out loud, her eyes shone with excitement, since that meant that she got him for a while and thus also the chance to take a bit off that mask he always wore. Because she was convinced it was a mask, or if it wasn’t, then she would just bask in its hedonistic light, just watch the bright moon cast its light on his ash-coloured hair, listen to him speaking and leave him to believe in his way of seeing life. These were sometimes joy too. After she arrived here, she learned to find the joy in everything, every small bit, because it was still better than to have nothing. She could have been accompanied by some religious, old arcanist or a dull and boring, though hardworking apprentice. Or she could have gotten Calia, though she felt guilty of that thought, because Calia was nice and kind and hurt and she was more than eager to make the short-haired girl just a little bit happier, and altogether her view of the world was much closer to Glin’s…

But Jespar was different. When Calia was around, Glinathra felt a little bit awkward, but trustful and friendly atmosphere. She felt pleasant with her, although it was sometimes hard to pull her out of her ’gloomy-talk’ and convince her that she is not a monster, not worthless, and life is after all not so bad. When Jespar was around, suddenly the air was not enough. Two lungs were not enough, one heart was not enough, it was hard to think and to concentrate on anything particular. When she talked to Calia, she said what was on her mind. When she talked to Jespar, she browsed through millions of possibilities, examined the results of all of them, and practically built up a chart of all the possible outcomes of the conversation, then, with fear that she might be wrong, she said the one which seemed most suitable. It was hard to build a bridge between what he might have wanted to hear and what she wanted to say. Maybe he didn’t want answers, just somebody who’d listen to him. She couldn’t imagine him having a normal life. An actual… life. With a... family. This word seemed farther from him than Prophetess from her. He probably had no one to care for. Or who would care for him.

She always expected him to say something smart during their travelling. But rarely did he make any remarks along the way, if anything, he hummed or sang and then commented on how bad he was at that.

’I know I can’t sing.’

’You’re not so bad actually.’

’What’s "so bad” then, fair lady?’

’Go to a tavern and listen to a drunkards. Although I believe I don’t have to tell you to do that. You do it regularly anyways.’

She expected the world to end, but all she got was a laugh. She looked over her shoulder. She had received a donkey for doing a favour, namely getting rid of a troll. A good deal, if not the best, and ever since then she used the kind animal to venture into all kinds of unimaginable places in Enderal. She tried to convince Jespar to join her but he refused to use anything else than his legs and, occasionally, teleport scrolls for transportation.  This didn’t change the fact that she asked him almost every time.

’Come on, you won’t catch me.’ and she prodded the animal to go faster. She felt like a small girl playing tag. She laughed. And then they fought off some skeletons or ancestral spirits or wolves, blood sprayed onto the dust, they gasped, caught their breath, wiped off the sweat and continued their journey. As if nothing happened. And then they laughed again.

Something was wrong with the world. But she enjoyed it. And wanted to, as long as she could. Jespar helped her do that. The only hardship was to concentrate on not planning anything. She couldn’t know in advance for how long the happiness would last. She grasped onto what she had at the moment. Like now, on their way to the Aged Man’s Manor.

Old walls, the smell of books, darkness, a mysterious mansion, strange how life turns out sometimes. The omnipresent sound of the piano. It had almost the same intensity everywhere, it was impossible to say which room it came from. It was scary, but surely added to the atmosphere.

As they waited and talked, she took a deep breath and inhaled the whole essence of this place. It felt so familiar, like she belonged here more than anywhere else, even though she was an intruder. A trespasser. But a proud one.

She crossed her legs on the chair. It felt as if they had all the time in the world. Warm lights almost painted Jespar’s hair red and yellow, the scent of fire awoke both peaceful nights and the memory of food, and her nightmare in her, but the flames made him look so beautiful. And she must have looked nice as well. She imagined looking into a mirror now, and absurdly the idea of some kind of ball dress appeared in her mind. She never wore anything like that, but that would make her such a nice and fair lady, wouldn’t it?

Time seemed to have frozen, the virtuosic music vibrated repetitively through the walls, always changing and monotonous at the same time. It felt as if the Aged Man, the room, the whole world was waiting for something to happen, and let it form slowly, gently, until it reaches its complete form. Beautiful and proud, the ruler of the Undercity… She stared into the fireplace as if it could hold some answers. Like as a child, she imagined shapes in them. People dancing. Screaming. Burning. The dead don’t forget. Daddy. Shivering. Dancing. Kissing. Sacrifice. Mistake.

And then time broke, the clock was ticking again and that something didn’t happen, whatever it was meant to be. She shivered, shook her head and realised that her blood’s hotness is nearing the state of unhealthiness. Arcane fever, maybe, she tried to convince herself, but no, however magical this place was, it was not her fever that’s done it to her. It was herself.

’You alright?’ Jespar asked.

’Sure. Why? Don’t tell me I look pale.’

’No, exactly the opposite… Another vision?’

She shook her head firmly. _Only my imagination._ ’You say it as if I had one every hour. These visions are not just a cup of tea. Literally.’

She took a deep breath, and before leaving the room she glanced into the flames again. Then at the mercenary. Silver locks. A simple white sheet waiting to be painted with patterns and colours, warm, warm colours, hair waiting to be caressed by soft, gentle fingers…

As she walked the stairs in the empty mansion, she played with the thought that it was hers. Theirs. She couldn’t decide who would be playing the piano, neither did she see the piano itself, but nevermind. She almost felt at home.

Until the Earth disappeared from beneath her feat and she fell. They were separated again. Fantastic. _Why does it always have to happen? We go on a mission, and it’s either ’Oh, damn, we have to separate’, or ’Oh, you’re working together perfectly? Fine, than here’s a trap door, Jespar will wait for you and you can only hope to survive. Good luck.’_

In the dead Pyrean’s memories she asks herself why she has to witness so many deaths. Why always the same? And why does it feel so natural to walk in the place of a ghost? Why is this long lost world like an adventure for her?

When all seems bitter and tragic, at home… well, not at home, but in the city there is always a young man to cheer her up. That’s what she liked to think about him. Regardless of his motives, he usually did so, besides killing her nerves. She didn’t want to know the motives either. They didn’t matter, she told herself, but in reality she was afraid of them.

 


	3. Dead or Alive - Train of Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two - sorry, three - travel to the Living Temple which has something painful to tell, so only two remain. Jespar talks about his family. Memories, imaginations, emotions... thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TERyxFfMqDk  
> Just came to my mind.

_"I see, I see you buried, six feet below"_

 

The Crystal Forest was beautiful. Vivid colours unworthy of all the suffering they had to see. She felt the vibration from the pink gemstones, they really felt alive, but not at all positively. They – the Temple – was alert, like it had been awakened from a long, empty, gruesome dream, finally some naive travellers found a way to it and they weren’t ready… The pink crystals looked like a beautiful warning, the ringing of a bell next to the ear of a deaf, a shadow in  the corner of your eye. She wanted to touch one of them, but as she drew her hands closer, something told her to stop.

***

’I will take the Path of the Wise Man. What about you, Joseph?’

He didn’t even mind correcting him. Glin didn’t try to hide her smile. ’The… warrior?’

_You’re no warrior, you know that. You don’t even want to be. You do it because that’s where the currents took you and you can make a living from it…_

’That leaves you the Path of the Dark One.’

 _Why am I the Dark One? Why do they keep saying these things to me?_  

She runs, she fights, she jumps, excited, a game, a game of survival. Split up. Again. Three different paths. It’s like she’s racing with them too. Or with herself. It is unbelievable that this temple was built so they can go through it like that. What if only the two of them came? Or more than three?... The sea of eventualities… it just had to be this way…

When it seems that the eternal darkness devours her mind completely, she sees Jespar. The light at the end of the tunnel.

Constantine is ahead of us. Ominous air lingers around him. Even before she sees his face she feels that something horrible is in her mind. She doesn’t feel it, but she knows… And when he starts speaking, she is sure they will have to kill him.

’Dying will not break the cycle. Dying doesn’t help anything.’ She didn’t know who she was talking to but Jespar answered with a silent ’Yeah’. Her hands were shaking. Firespark’s words echoed in her mind. She swallowed. She didn’t know if she should ask the question. ’Why did he call me fleshless one?’ She wanted to shoo away all these accusations. She knew Jespar was the wrong person to ask. How could he know? He was such a small figure in this whole game. Maybe she was too, but she pretended to be something else…

’I don’t know. Possessed people tend to say weird things. Wait, how do you know he was talking about you?’

She swallowed a huge bite of darkness. ’Who else could it be? Think. The Path of the Dark One…’

’How could those who built this temple know that the three of us would come here? Come on, these are just… titles. A way to scare off intruders, I guess, with all this mystery. Anyway, we should go…’

’Yeah. We should always go.’

’I’m a little fed up with this place.’

_I’m a little fed up with you. And myself._

The only way to settle these thoughts was to hide them under a nice warm blanket on which it was written DO NOT DISTURB in her mind. The problem was that there were too many things that shouldn’t have been disturbed.

This plan, as it turned out, was a failure. When Jespar walked out of that room and told her to go in, she could barely breathe. She created hundreds of ideas in her mind, yet she was not ready for what she saw in there.

If it were only her own corpse she saw lying on the floor, that could have had some explanation. The problem was that Sirius was there too. She just watched the two bodies and her mind switched back to her initiation to the Order, when she drank that potion. The endless prison. Aixon. Of course I am not (real). At least not according to your definition of the word.

No, Jespar, I am not real. At least not according to your definition of the word.

But Jespar didn’t see how it all started to make sense. He only viewed it as part of the Temple’s trickery, a random confusing thing, and she almost wanted to shout into his face…

_Who the hell am I?_

And when she looked into her eyes, she saw nothing else than a confused mind capable of doing nothing with what he saw. His explanation was not enough.

_Yes, the High Ones want to confuse us. But who are they? And what do they want?_

_And who am I?_

She was relieved when the topic finally switched to him. And his family. Excellent, they have never talked about his family. He acted like he had none, the word "family” was also something one would not associate Jespar Dal’Varek with. The only reminder was the Dal’Varek family name. Somehow she felt that this Adila would later be a problem. Also she felt a great pressure. She didn’t know what to say. Such hatred and contempt was radiating from him that she knew if she gave the wrong answers, it would cause, what, that he wouldn’t talk to her for the rest of his life? Probably not. Just for this journey.

After he’d fixed that train, his face held such pride and self-sufficient smile. Contrast. The mask fell off and he finally showed the things that hurt him. The father. The problem is always in the roots. (But where were hers?) It felt good to understand. She hoped she understood. Her eyes glowed with a sympathetic light and if only she could shout to somebody out there, she would have said thanks for the possibility to hear this. His every word. She felt an idealistic urge to change something. To hear the wrongs that had happened, and make them right again. She didn’t know how, but she was a Prophetess, she must have been able to do something. Listening to a Dal’Varek after seeing one’s own corpse – it was something, after all.

The monotonous sound of the rattling train, the machine that after so many years could be brought back to life so easily, made her forget that time exists. When he asked about her, firstly she could barely conceal her surprise. The sad thing was that she didn’t remember much. Besides, it was shocking that he was actually interested in anything. Or maybe he was just being polite. But being polite was just not a thing Jespar did for fun.

She imagined that in a parallel reality she now held out his hand and placed it on his shoulders and her lips formed the words: ’You don’t have to become what your father was. Nor your mother. Nor anyone. But you don’t have to stay who you are now either. You still have lots of years. I’m not even sure what my mother was like, not even sure what the world is like anymore, but I’m still myself. I’m not sure about this either, but I am here, something for sure is happening, and if I can take a part in it, make turns in the events, then I will.’

In the parallel universe… No, in this universe Jespar half-smiled. ’Practicing Prophetess-speeches? Really motivating, I give you that.’

She looked down on her hands. They were lying on her thighs, a bit shaking, but otherwise just like normal hands.

When he suggested they should go to sleep, she wondered for a moment at the absurdness of her life. Jespar lay down on the bed which was surprisingly ready and suitable for anyone who would by chance decide to use an old Pyrean train, like this place, as all places of the world, was his own little territory. And from somewhere a parallel universe laughed at her, blinked at her, and her face turned red, she lay down under another sheet of prepared whiteness, which was strangely homey and comfortable, and stared at the sky… instead of the sky the ceiling of the rattling train, but in her imagination it was a sky, and her mind slowly sank into the warmth of her protected, isolated mind-palace, or rather mind-island, where there was a parallel universe when right at the moment her hands touched another one’s fingers, they slept while their skin was connected, and in another one parallel universe, well… she didn’t even dare put it into words.


	4. Nightmares and Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up after a long train-travel, infiltrating enemy camp, getting caught, surviving a journey on a paper ship, saved by a fisherwoman, finally a flight home.

"They say before you start a war,

You better know what you're fighting for"

 

She didn’t have nightmares then. She woke up not knowing where she is, but after she saw his face everything was clear. She wondered how many times has she woken up to his being the very first sight.

Her heart was full of excitement and determination to explore more of this mysterious destiny that seemed to await everyone, and though everyone viewed her as a part of it, she felt more and more as just being a pawn pulled at someone’s own pleasure and mood…

She didn’t have nightmares then. But then life turned into a nightmare when they were plucked on a cockleboat onto the wild and stormy sea…   Her heart rate was constantly rising and after a while she didn’t know who to blame.

_Whose idea was it, really? Coming to an unknown island, sneak into the camp of the enemy and believing they won’t notice us. They always do this to me. It’s what they always do. Go there, do this, do that, and don’t get noticed… and don’t die…_

These were her last thoughts before her eyesight and consciousness was put out again.

 

***

A who-knows-how-manieth wave pushed her against Jespar’s chest.

_I’m still thinking what would have been some nice last words._

He tried not to concentrate on his freezing body and not noticing every drop of icy water which each felt like a spark of ice magic or daggers pushed into his body… And they remained, letting the cold wind slowly coat his in a calm and cruel frosty embrace.

If she was awake she would probably ask ’Does the Wise Hermit not have any wise words for cases like this?’ He laughed as he held her closer, wondering if this kind of warmth was enough to keep her alive… until… until what?

Every two minutes he shouted for about another two minutes, but by now he’d grown tired. And bored. Shouting for help isn’t much fun, so after a while the words mingled with anything that came to his mind including random curses which are most likely to be heard in inns and such, alongside with what little he could remember from the Verses. Although he didn’t agree with one word of it.

’Come on now, wake up…’ he moaned pleadingly to the seemingly fragile body he kept in his arms. Her face rested on his thighs, her otherwise gently and tightly put hair now disheveled and in complete chaos, silver-blondish lines soaked in water and covering in vines everything they touched. ’You won’t, will you?’ In any other case this would be impossible, her lying helplessly and completely relying on him. His ego wanted to enjoy moments like these, but they were always accompanied by bitterness. Not only because they were tumbling through a raging sea on a piece of wood.

’Damn it, if these are our last hours, I don’t want to spend them in silence, freezing, and waiting for you to open your blasted eyes.’ He waited for her – or maybe one of the Light Born – to slap him. But of course, nothing happened. Only the cold grew worse and worse.

A few raindrops touched his face. ’Splendid. It was all I needed.’ He sighed and took his time to wonder at the brute force of nature. Little pathetic humans. A poet would write a nice verse from this scene, he thought. Too bad he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything else but watch as the drops drew smaller-larger circles onto the water-mirror, wetting her eyelashes. A good-for-nothing mercenary. Gods know how come he might be here, right now, with her. Has she been asking the same questions herself? Why she became a Prophetess?

What will he tell Arantheal if he gets back with a dead Prophetess?

What will he tell himself?

His mind closed down with a black blockage and cold, cold, freezing cold, it was even better than these thoughts. He hugged her motionless body closed to himself. Her members hung from her skeleton like lifeless clothes. An unknowing shell. Yet she was the most living thing close to him, maybe the only one. Would this be the time to whisper some ultimate wisdom in the air when no one would hear it, like it is remembered in bard songs? Maybe if that imaginary poet would by chance have a hidden paper in this boat, he could utter a few words and put them into writing, then shuffle them into a bottle and maybe hundreds of years later it could be found. Maybe it is the scene to make some kind of confession.

But what should he confess? He searched for something clear and honest and real, but all he found was empty darkness, memories of loud music, distant shores caressed by sunlight, voices, sounds, blood, adventures into the dark forest, a long-haired innocent young girl… Adila…

  _Two small figures. Stumbling through the fog. She turns, laughing. She slips on something. He feels he should move to help her but he doesn’t. She said something very hideous to him yesterday. She hurts her hands by trying to stop the fall, but she doesn’t cry. She never does. She wants to seem strong like her brothers._

_Stumbling through the fog like all the others._

_They climb on cliffs, run through waterfalls, stamp on flowers, they will grow back anyway, everything grows back eventually, they examine animals and compare them to people. They don’t find much difference. They don’t talk about what to do when they grow up. They don’t want to change, they want to be like now. Always._

_But they can’t be. Sublime Path and all. Something that had been inside them from the very beginning grows greater and greater and takes them so far apart that no one can tell that far back they were alike. The waterfall freezes and breaks into a thousand pieces, piercing through flesh and soul._

 

***

_She’s sitting on the carriage. The sun shines like it wants to burn every living thing on Earth. It shines yet there is silence, only the wind strokes the trees’ leaves a bit._

_There’s no one around. She jumps off, runs toward the horses. There’s something strange about them, they stand like statues, looking at her with glassy eyes. A decor in a frozen world._

_Ashes in a building. A remainder of a house. A book on the ground. Flesh. Flesh is good. Flesh is life. She remembers the taste of flesh in her mouth. Salty and it hurts._

_Green, beautiful, silent. She runs up along the road. She’s small, it feels like she’s always been small and always will be. She has to close her eyes because of the sun-rays. They are so bright. Blinding._

_Turns and turns and turns, it’s like the road will never end. She’ll never reach the end of her Path. She stumbles on the rocks. She stops for a moment to look at the statue of the hooded person. Large, stone, numb, silent like a grave. No birds on the sky. Only a deer, running. An instinct tells her to chase it. To run after it, with glowing eyes, hold the knife strongly in her hand, then cut it, cut it sharp and bathe in its blood. Hot blood. Blood and flesh._

_She hears another sound. Axe on wood. She runs up to the house and stops before Daddy. Found it._

_Found what?_

_She feels trapped, wants to get out of here. This is not real. She’s seen it a thousand times. Daddy’s eyes, his face, his animalistic, cruel face, it’s not him, it can’t be him, it can’t be her, it must be someone else._

_Iron chains, cutting down through the flesh to the bones. Screams of a woman, screams of a child, screams of the world, the voice of ember, the smell of smoke, of burnt flesh, nice, tasty burnt flesh. You always do what they tell you to do. Piles of bodies, houses on fire, little lamps, she sees it from above, the whole world’s like a playground, all burning, singing-screaming the hymn of fire, little, tiny little parts of a chain that goes round, round, round, till it gets too tight on the neck, and then the neck breaks, the chain cuts into flesh and bone until nothing remains but piles of ash… Flesh to ash…_

_You’re not yourself, you know that… Stay with us… Little sis wants to play with you… Stay with us… stay with us… stay with us… stay with us…_

’Stay with me… wake up…’

A few moments have to pass until she realises that her mind has been transported into another world, namely the real one. Whatever "real” means. She realises she’s staring with eyes wide open and she remembers voices, screams… her own… among others…

She shouldn’t be surprised by the face she sees. It’s not surprise she feels actually, but relief, a lot of it, and the gust of shame because she cannot remember clearly what she did in the last minutes. The next moment her face is against his chest and arms around his neck. She doesn’t know what kind of motion makes her body move, but it does. His heartbeat stronger and faster in her ears. She cuddles like a child to the only living thing she’d seen for a long time. She inhales his scent deeply and her trembling mind focuses on the gentle and warm, yet unwilling touch of his, clings onto the rare and short moment, then pulls herself together and tries to grow up from a nightmare in a few seconds.

’Hey, hey, it’s all right…’ Care and gentleness didn’t find their place in his voice. He put his hand awkwardly on her shoulders.

 _Convincing._ She let go of him with a reddened face and tried to turn back her heart rate to normal. ’Bad dreams?’

 _Splendid deduction._ ’Yeah. The one I told you about. Seems my mind is not friends with creativity.’

He shortly summed up what happened and according to the future, he only mentioned he will collect his salary. ’Really. It’s what is most important to you know? The money? We only just survived an adventure that could easily…’

’And without money I would be dead anyway, only that it would be an ugly, pathetic death preceded by long years of humiliation. I could starve and freeze in the streets of Ark. Or in a cave killed by some beast.’

’Would you stop thinking about your death for a moment?’

’Just fantasizing.’ He shrugged as if it didn’t matter more than what the weather was like today. Actually, when you’re on a paper ship, the weather kind of matters… ’Dying was not among my plans. For a while.’

’Then what was among your plans?’ She was staring into the water but her words immediately scared her. ’Wait, I’m guessing the answer is "I don’t know".’ _Actually I don’t need more answers for that question. It would only make things worse._

***

’Strange pair you are’, the fisherwoman said and looked at her with a questioning face. She wondered how much Jespar had told her.

’He didn’t say I’m called Mydame de Luna, right?’

’He didn’t mention no name, he only said you’re a.. Prophetess of some kind.

’That’s what they call me, yes.’ Seagulls flew over them. This place reminded her of home… of Nehrim, however far it felt now. ’But it’s ridiculous. I am no Prophetess, only an adventurer, but if  I might help some problems, I’ll do it willingly… My name is Glinathra, by the way. Only that... no one calls me that anymore.’

’Solving problems seems to get you a lot of money these days.’  She threw a disapproving glance towards Jespar.

’I don’t care about money. Why should I, when I have a fixed accommodation in the Sun Temple?... Excuse me, you must think I’m a snobbish, lazy…’

’Calm down, lass. I see you for what you are. The other one there, though, I’m not so sure.’

’Me neither’ Glin sighed. ’But he is the one they sent with me in this mission, so I will have to live with that.’ _Live with him? Now that would be quite a challenge…_ She felt a little guilty, like her words didn’t cover the whole truth.

’You don’t see eye to eye?’

’Well… it’s hard to explain. But must we speak behind his back?’

’He’s right there staring right at us, so it would be difficult. If you wanted to be behind his back, then go on and jump into the water.’ The old woman smiled.

’No, thank you, I think I’ll pass…’ she smiled, shivering. She knew that this fisherwoman they will probably never meet, but it felt satisfying to tell her even the smallest part of what was bothering her. It’s been long that she’s built out such fellowship. The other one was Calia, but she never asked about the mercenary, and the mercenary, well, how could you talk about your problems with a particular someone – with that particular someone?

Though that was exactly what she wanted to do.

 

*******

 

In Duneville she lingered for long while listening to the bard sing. He had a wonderful voice and the surrealistic image of the windy city just added to the atmosphere.

’Okay, okay, you can go and collect your money’ she told Jespar, after he urged them to leave for about the fifth time. ’You know what, take the myrad and when it comes back, I will go with the next flight, until then you can order that nice girl in the Dancing Nomad to practice the Winter Sky for me.’

When she was tired, she acted like other people when they were when they were drunk. She was never drunk, maybe that was the case. She did not need alcohol to feel dizzy, without boundaries, saying anything what came to her mind.

’And you’re gonna miss all the fun?’

’I’m having my fun here, can’t you see?’ She smiled, with gleaming eyes, he smiled back at her and for a few moments it felt like it was okay. It was okay just to talk about inns and entertainment and music in Duneville, like Firespark had never died, she’d never had horrible nightmares and she’d not fear dreadfully of Jespar’s image getting drunk.

No, when she viewed it just as a sudden glimpse of happiness, then it felt terribly good. Just the voices, the moment, the smells, her body just wanted to move and dance and clap and look at the stars and do whatever madness she wanted to do, because the blood in her veins wanted it, and if she gave in, the veins would just sigh, yeah, thanks, that’s what we wanted.

And maybe they wouldn’t want much. Just a few drops. Just a hug, just some smirky words to any male that came in her vision, just a sentence louder than normal.

But maybe they would want something else, something "more", as they say (but more than what?), and when the mist would go away, and she would see what she’s done, she’d scream like at the sight of high burning flames and dead people.

_And he strayed in the void, as the Wayward Wanderer, despising the Path that was meant just for him…_

She sang on the back of the Myrad. She leant back and imagined there was nothing under her. Just falling. It was more entertaining than scary. Jespar was mostly engaged with somehow organising his hair from out of his eyes. ’Well, you outshine me. I will never utter a word in your presence.’

’A word? Is this a vow of silence?’ She shouted, it was the only way she could make sure she was heard.

’A word, singing. Of course I won’t stop talking. That would be horrible.’

’Does a Wise Hermit have a saying about talking?’

’Well, let me think…’ Silence.

’I see. Very wise, indeed.’

’Very funny.’

She didn’t say anything, she just laughed. She felt relieved, joyous, free and proud, though she didn’t know what for. She only wished he would experience it too. See it. Feel it. That added a little bit of bitterness. But nevertheless, the sky was beautiful. Flying. With Jespar. That memory alone was worth it. Worth…. Whatever was to come. The image. If you only saw the image, it was kind of perfect. She wanted to remember that. Marble patterns in the sky, the dark moon somewhere behind the clouds. ’ _When the red moon casts its light, his ghost travels through the night…’_

She glanced at his face from the corner of her eye to see his reaction. He seemed pleased, listened to her for a while, then asked, ’Is it really your favourite song?’

’Not the only favourite, but yeah, I like it… Did it sound awful?’

’It was beautiful. I’m just curious. The story seems a bit too… stereotypic. You know, young love, the guy goes to the army, dies, she waits for him and… that’s it.’

She took a deep breath. She hated when he said the word "love”. She was unable to pronounce the word "cockroach” with the same amount of contempt.

’Really? That’s it? Oh, come on, just open your… ears once in a while.’ She wanted to say heart, but… ’It is as long as a bard song can get, and you can’t put everything to words. They're just the frame. Everybody has to put in it what they see in it. What they want to see. ’

’I am familiar with the point of art.’

’Then why ask?’

’I would like to know what exactly do _you_ put in it.’

’Oh.’ _And you didn’t think of that. You pessimistic…_ ’Well… I…’ She suddenly felt the mixture of excitement and terror. Just the usual. ’It’s nothing exact. I mean, it’s more of a metaphor to me. The going to the army part is stereotypic, yeah, but that’s not the point. The basics are… desire, loss, and… as I said, I don’t have anything like that in my life. But maybe I would like to have.’ She shrugged. _Safe and sound answer. Hopefully._ What could she say? That he, the hedonistic-realistic mercenary would never understand that romantic, girly things are not just romantic girly things? That she wanted more than anything to make him understand?

She stared into the distance. She could now make out the outline of Ark. Yellow spots, the lights of the city. Bed. Sleep. Soon. Damn, she was tired.


	5. Tea Time Turns the Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friendly chat with Calia, this time not such a gloomy one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need mass alliterations. Sorry.

’And it turns out, we have too look for three Black Stones, and where can we find one of them? In the Dal’Varek mention. Well, that’s just my luck, I guess.’ Glinathra shrugged. 

’Two birds with one stone’ Calia smiled. They were sitting in the Scuola, drinking tea with honey. Sun was pouring in from the windows, painting everything in gold and yellow. It drew out perfectly the dark mark's outlines on the other girl's face. 

’I see why this place is called Sun Temple…’ She took another sip. _I have no idea why people drink alcohol._

’Yeah, it’s beautiful.’ It’s been long since she’d seen Calia smile, though they spent quite some time together. ’I take it you know who will accompany you to the estate.’

’He would insist only if I…’ _haven’t planned it long in advance to escort him there_ ’would try to stop him by magic lightning.

’That… won’t be necessary. I think.’

Calia was not a friend of brute force, obviously. ’I won’t hurt him. I’m just saying things like that, it makes it easier to bear… life in general.’

’Yes, but… words can also hurt, Sa’Ira.’

’I know that… believe me…’ _The dead don’t forget… That’s it… People are only idealists until it starts to hurt…_

’Have I said something wrong?’

’You? No, Calia. _You_ rarely say anything wrong.’

’That means… sometimes I do it?’

’Ahh, come on, the emphasis was somewhere else.’ Glinathra smirked. She needed these moments. Being a Prophetess was tiring, only hearing it made her feel… ambivalent. Proud too, but there was nothing to be proud of, the words just collided with thin air, they needed to be filled with something. Maybe these Black Stones… Although it still felt like some kind of treasure hunt.

’This tea is wonderful,’ she said, ’thank you.’

’You don’t need to thank me. You are so kind to me, it’s the least I can do.’

Sometimes Calia seemed grateful for her even for existing. She didn’t need to make any effort, just be herself, and Calia would shine, recover from the stinky, cold darkness she closed herself in, and allowing some light to pour in. Her eyes reflected such happiness when Glinathra looked at them, and she felt guilty for the anger at times like these. Because she was angry, so angry. Calia was kind, soft, wanted to make the world a better place, she was devoted to her cause, never went to inns, liked tea, liked cats, liked many fantastic things in the world, and if anyone just so much as caressed the surface of her identity, she would closely open up and give all of herself lovingly to that person.

Jespard was a drunkard mercenary. Jespar was a humorous treasure hunter. Jespar had huge eyes, sometimes green, sometimes blue, always beautiful. Jespar called her My fair lady. Jespar had no family, needed help, but whenever he got it, he didn’t know what to do. Jespar hated love, or so he said, he loved women, at least their body, and it was so natural for him as a sip of water. Jespar’s hair was white like the snow, he’s walked with her in the Crystal Forest and they talked for long hours, yet they always missed the point.

But he had one living relative. It was high time to find her. Glin was more than curious. Very afraid, and very, very curious. She wanted a turning point, finally. But the same ambivalent feelings were connected to this as well. What exactly did she want… she had no idea.  


	6. Misunderstanding - Loving family...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jespar Dal'Varek meets his sister and dies.  
> It would be logical to think this is the end of the story.  
> Luckily, very luckily, it is not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGWBmZnZdkw
> 
> Because of the good music, and good lyrics.

_"My loving heart lost in the dark, for hope I'd give my everything. "_

 

’I don’t think that’s a good idea.’ 

She didn't think the whole thing was a good idea, but this... Why did she come if she only had to wait in the bushes? She did not trust this Adila. From what she's heard, no good was to be expected. But of course, Jespar wouldn't see that, there is always a shadow in the close one's eyes... _Damn._

’It will be okay. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.'

'Misunderstanding?!...' _Yes. Sure. A misunderstanding. Just wait in the thicket. Just wait._ Her heart pounded so hard. She knew it was a bad idea. She didn't know why she stayed... but she watched him walk away... something was shaking inside of her, screaming, run, stop, turn around, now, come back, let's get out of here, those damned black stones don't mean so much, it's not worth it.... _  
_

No use.

She’s waiting, as her life fades away....

She needed all of her strenght to keep her there. Just stand by and wait. Nothing was more torturing than this. She wanted to move, to do anything, but no....

She watched them talk. She felt like a statue, like a guilty person frozen in ice for something she had not done. A punishment. But for what? It was so obvious, oh, why couldn't he see? She cursed herself, why couldn't she move, run out of her hiding place... but she just waited, as the numbness in her legs started to become unbearable, but she didn't get out, no, she was told to stay and she stayed, good girl, listened to the advice...

And then the voices went higher. She wanted to move but something held her back. Like in a nightmare. And then with a great flare of light Jespar jumped in the air and he was nowhere. She could only see the trace of fire. No, he was there... lying on the ground... in flames...

Then the bondage broke and she was on her feet, out in the arena, without knowing what she was doing, with a voice that she recognised as her own, but... the intention of forming the voice faded away in her mind.

Shaking, she looked into the eyes of that terrible monster. _Who am I? You ask, who am I? You will see soon, you murderer._

Adila’s eyes were glowing red. Yes. Misunderstanding. Surely. How could he not see? Why didn’t he warn her somehow? But oh, she knew... she just didn't do anything.. She knew that this burning hatred would eventually kill her, slowly and terrible. But first, she would finish off this one...  
She didn’t listen to the monster’s words, she was staring at the human shaped pile of ash . Her mind couldn’t process it. She must wake up, sweaty and screaming, but nevermind, anything is better than this.

For some reason she wanted to give Adila another chance. Whether this is happening or not, she should act like herself.  But she gave her no choice.

’Make it back. Reverse it.  Make all of this un-happened. NOW. BRING HIM BACK!'  she shouted, her fists clenched, imagining it was Adila’s neck between them. But she wanted to wait for what she had to say. She knew now that she would kill her with enthusiasm and pleasure, slowly hear her screams and pleas, become all that she’s hated but it didn’t matter now.

Bring him back. Just bring him back, I don’t care how.

He might not be dead. He just might. Only... unconscious. Of course, fire magic does not leave you simply unconsciously, especially one of such a talented wild mage. But it was all she had. That's just... maybe... after she's done with this red-eyed bastard. She wanted for her to attack first. And when they fought, she felt stronger than ever before. Never has she been so powerful and her wounds were even joyous, the way the blood was pouring from their pierced bodies, both pairs of eyes content and certain that they are fighting for their own good and that it is the right cause.

Glinathra felt she could die here. And would, gladly,. But she’s never let this creature finish her off. _I will kill you first myself._ She heard her own voice, painful and animalistic, strongly echoing from the cave’s walls. She felt satisfaction that felt more sinful than anything. _That’s what Calia must feel._ Such joy in killing. Because it was justice. It had to make something better. To cleanse the world from this abomination.

Her lightnings illuminated Adila’s face. The Dal’Varek seemed to feel she was about to lose. Glinathra knew she shouldn’t bother with anything else during fighting, but she wanted answers, she wanted them so badly she would beat it out of her if necessary. ’Why? Why do you think it solves anything ? They control you, don’t you feel it? Why, is it me controlling you? Or what is it you believe?’

Fire and lightning mixed in the middle of the cave. Their little arena. ’It was the place you played as children’, she shouted. ’How could you? Everybody died!’ she panted. ’Everybody died, but you lived, and what do you do? You should have been grateful! What kind of person kills her own brother?!'

Adila screamed. She gasped as spasms shook her body. Her knees have in and her eyelids covered the mad redness.

’Yes, that’s what I expected.’ She knew somewhere deep that Adila was just a victim. Not to a past long gone and rotten, but unfortunately the present.

 _Die now. Die nicely. Die now, if you cannot bring him back, die. No Dal’Vareks anymore. No one remains. But the Prophetess lives, that’s what’s important. It’s what matters._ Contempt. More of it than when Jespar mentioned people and their cliché-like relationships.

She  poured all her mana into the last blow. The  earth vibrated and vibrated, then it all fell silent. Adila lay motionless on the ground. Like an object, nothing more. Satisfaction filled her from the inside.

Family. This is family.

Silence.

She awkwardly stepped away from her. In the afterglow she was only an ugly corpse, nothing more.

Two dead Dal’Vareks.

It’s time to wake up.

But she didn’t wake up.

She ran to Jespar or what remained of him. He surprisingly looked like himself. Only he would not utter a word. Yet she turned his face up, stroked the hair out of his eyes. The world started to twist and turn around her. She  numbly looked around, her motions were inconsequent, reaching out to anything, just anything, anyone....

She held him by his shoulders and lifted him up so she could hug him. It was strange how heavy a body could be if it was unable to move itself.

Warmth in her chest. He’d never been so close to her. Never. She snuggled like a child, hid her face, her hair fell on his shoulders. Her shoulders shook  and she felt tears all over her. Not just her face, not anymore. His body was warm, but only because of the fire. She wanted to blame somebody, needed to, but there was no one around anywhere to blame.

’I’m not yet done with you. You can’t just leave me. I have a lot to tell you, you know that? Misunderstanding??? Why did I have to listen to you? Why do I ever listen to you?'

She asked him, but if anyone were near, they probably wouldn’t have understood the same words. She wanted to say them, but her lips couldn’t form the sounds probably, what could be heard was more of a whining than speaking. She stroked his face, laughed at herself and how stereotypically she acted right now. But did it matter when there was no one watching?

She stood up. The skin on her face felt like a burning shell, her stance staggering, her hair a bunch of chaotic threads. She put it behind her ears. She stood there for minutes, her heart pumping wildly in her veins, and then slowing down. Then the same again.

‘I should leave now, should I not? I should leave you here. The last Dal’Vareks. Just…. decay here. Like you never existed. It’s so nice. Everywhere I go, something dies, somebody dies. You should be buried somehow. But I think this place is good enough for a tomb. I hope nobody ever comes here again.’ Her silent words echoed from the walls. Her deep voice was as if someone was talking through her lips, factual, emotionless, cold, empty.

‘I should go’, she said again. ‘Yes, I am talking to myself. Do you have a problem with that?... Thought so. You don’t have a problem with anything anymore.’

Images rushed through her mind. She had a bad habit of detailed imaginations of the future. And possible futures. What it will be like, seeing the Dancing Nomad again? Seeing Tealor again, or Calia? Hearing music, seeing a cup of wine, hearing the word ‘sister’, going in caves, damn, she’ll perhaps even hate the sight of the plants that grow down here. Like there’s a stamp on them, a negative imprinting. And even if she went blind, she could not escape it. There was no escaping Jespar Dal’Vareks memory, and she hated him for it. That he was just a memory. Because of this… this… stupidity. This cursed, tainted world. _I could have made you better. I could have made everything better for you…_

At times she let her tears flow so hot, her shoulders shake and her cries come out loudly, and a flow of self-pity rush through her soul, so strong that it was a wonder the whole cave didn’t collapse. It should have. Some minutes later her look was empty again and she just stood there with misty eyes, rather a tired face than sad, staring into the nothingness.

When Sirius had died… She felt guilty now. All her family were dead, and so many people whom she didn’t know so well had passed away… and she didn’t break so much. Maybe he was the last straw. _Oh, how could he be the last? You think you will not lead more and more people to their graves?_

But the reason for pitying herself was not that. The reason was that it happened too soon. Too soon in his life and too soon in their common life. If such thing ever existed. He would never know now. Never see. Maybe he wouldn’t either was, but at least there was a chance. And she was so damn angry with the world for taking it away from her. It was his fault too. He was so stupid not to see the obvious danger.

She started walking away, out of this place, and glanced back for the last time. ‘Goodbye. Or whatever. I won’t forget you, for what it’s worth. You unlucky idiots.’ Trains. Pyrean railways. _Shut up. Go away._ People are only idealists until it starts to hurt. My fair lady. Our mysterious survivor is awake.

His words kept on repeating themselves in her brain.

_Go. Just. Go._

She almost shouted from the shock, when she saw the veiled figure. It was the last place and time she would have expected to see her.

Surprisingly, she was able to ask questions of her. Given the chance, she was more than enthusiastic to do so, but the result was about the same as when she tried to ask the High Ones. ‘Fantastic. So I met some kind of divine entities who claim themselves far above me, and now you do the same. Except you are above them as well. That didn’t make me much smarter.

She knew she was being insolent and rude, but at the time it was not something she would care about.

‘It isn’t something you would easily understand’, the Veiled Woman “answered”.

‘It’s all you can say. All the time. Well, if you don’t TELL us, we won’t understand! "Nothing" is quite hard to comprehend.'

‘So is everything.’

She was done with questions, because she realized they were of no use. So she decided to let the strange entity speak for itself. Herself. But one sentence just froze the blood in her veins, or rather made it flow so fast… so, so fast…

‘…Which I why I will wipe away my debt, which was never there to begin with.’

_What?_

_Okay, wake up now._

_What? Bring him back? Well, now that I think about it, why couldn’t she…? After all she said… Ether something is really wrong with my head, or…_

She opened her eyes wide. She watched mesmerized as the woman walked to him and Jespar’s body rose in the air, the scorch marks on his body disappeared, fresh, new skin, blue light, blueness everywhere, like the clearest magic she ever saw. Like struck by lightning, she stood. Again. She couldn’t believe her eyes. _For… for real? You can do that in the blink of an eye? This easily?_

She kneeled before him. He was breathing. Alive. And in pain, obviously, but who cares? ALIVE.

‘Jespar?’ She didn’t recognize her own voice, it was so fragile, so afraid, so doubting, so… damn… torturingly hopeful.

‘That’s my name.’

 _Oh, you do not say…_ She probably laughed. She didn’t exactly remember what she did in those moments of pure relief and joy, only his words afterwards. ‘Don’t… strangle me, please.’ So she let go of him. _Oh, you know nothing. You simply know nothing, completely nothing. But at least you’re alive._

She didn’t even mind him being, to say the least, rude and antisocial, which was understandable, since she just killed his sister, and yes, he was now the last of his family, but that was still not an excuse, but that was just him being… himself. And Glinathra was just so happy and satisfied that nothing, simply nothing would change that the world became suddenly the most wonderful place to live in.

She closed her eyes and just smiled, smiled, smiled.

_Thank you._


	7. You Can't Be Like All The Others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jespar can't be found at his usual place, but in the Undercity, and out young Prophetess is not at all happy about that. The things that happen mean they will have a lot to think about.

She didn't know why, but she felt the world was ending when she saw her, and as for all those other girls, she had the urge to put them into flames in seconds. Luckily for them, they quickly cleared out of the room when they saw her glance and heard her words. Their eyes - endless pits of decay. She felt sorry for them, but she felt more sorry for herself.

_Why do you care? What are you doing here?_

She tried to find the words that were not too agressive, she had to suppress almost everything she felt, but she wanted no damage... at first. She tried to keep up hope, instead of just turning around and walking out. Because what would follow? _How will this end?_ She could pretty much picture the image of this place burning. No other alternative.

_You think we are friends. But we're not._

She stared at this being in front of him and wondered what she should think. The image of him in her mind was not perfect, not even close, from the beginning. She thought she'd seen everything as it was, that she did not shadow reality with her naive fantasies.

But maybe she had.

She wanted so hard to object that what he said was the truth. People all say things like that when they are drunk. And more than that. Well... most people. Weak people.

Very, very weak people.

Why does she want to stand up for a weak person?

How can she convince somebody that he should trust in himself? How could she initiate a process that had to come from inside? Or what right did she have to do so?

Something told her to go on, despite all the shame. Something lead her to sink into a level she didn't know yet. Something told her it was for the greater good.

Greater then what? Good for whom?

She looked at him and saw all the wounds that still radiated their effect from the time that they were born. She saw a ruined childhood and she knew there were thousands of people like this. Thousands of people... millions, getting wasted every night, millions of people looking for another woman's or women's arms because they could do nothing with their lives. Millions of people who lost their parents and they were oh, so lost. Millions of people who became so pathetic that they didn't deserve pity even despite their rightfully horrible situation...

Then why was he different?

Was he different?

…It took all her strength to form words like that and not lose her temper.

‘We’re friends.’ _Really? -_ the walls asked. _What do you base that on? Is he a “friend” to you? What does friend mean?_

‘You don’t care. Then why do you tell? Why are you telling me any of this? _Why are you here?.... This is what I get._ ‘You’re forgetting something, you ungrateful bastard. I saw you die. I SAW YOU DIE. You told me not to interfere, I stayed there, and watched, watched you die. ‘ Emphasis on each word. Voice shaking. Fists clenched. ‘I watched, I saw your skin  burn. And she brought you back.  You would be lying there now, had she not. And if it weren’t for me. You would be nothing. This is how you say thanks?'

‘I didn’t ask for it.’

‘No, you didn’t. But I did. And I did it for someone who was stronger than to give in so easily.’ _Choose your words. Carefully… Why? He does not. He doesn’t choose anything carefully. He just goes with the flow. I should just go and  pretend all this never happened. Ha. No. Not a chance._

Hate, boiling rage building up. She wants to hate him, hate him more than anything. She couldn't even look at him. The sight of his bare chest awoke such a desire in her that she wanted to kill him.

_On what basis do you question him? YOU came here. YOU called it all upon yourself. If you hadn’t come…. If you hadn’t come…_

‘You wouldn’t be like this if all this didn’t mean anything to you.’ She tried again. And again and again. She wanted to convince herself that he was worth fighting for. _How many tried to convince themselves? How many?_

‘Of course, you want to think so. That’s what people do. They get drunk because they are sad, regretful, hopeless, or whatever. It’s good to think that, because it protects you. It lets you believe that after a few days it will change. Also that what I say now doesn’t matter, cause I’m not completely myself, right? Is that what you think?'

‘No, I’m not saying it doesn’t matter. But it’s not the only thing you think.'

‘How would you know what I think?’ The contempt in his voice was more than she could tolerate.

‘I would like to.’

‘No, you wouldn’t. You should just believe I’m like you think I am, and the world is how you imagine it is, and maybe you’ll not break like so many others do, because of their stupid disappointment. If you accept you’re walking in shit, it won’t hurt you so much then when you want to believe it’s clean grass with flowers…’

‘Stop. Just stop. You’d listen to yourself and you’d see how….’ She looked in his eyes and couldn’t cope with the loss of words.

She was shaking inside. And outside, too. She remembered someone saying that you hate in other people most what is your own weakness. She remembered all her nightmares and didn’t know why she thought about them, but she did. Everywhere, everyone wanted to tell her they knew everything better. And that reality was worse than how she saw it.

’You want me to believe you could turn on me in any minute. I could just go tell Tealor that I won’t ever go anywhere with you, never work with you again. That might end everything for you.’

’Go ahead. You might even help me with that.’

’That’s not the point! You know I won’t do that. You know. And you know why. If I wouldn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have stayed so long to listen to your pessimistic whining for so long. I wouldn’t have even come here in the first place! But now I won’t leave without…'

 ’Just… go. Please. I have to get away from here. From this city, from this people, from everything.’

’You mean from me? You have to get away from me? Because I might tell you the truth, and you’re afraid of that?’

His face so lost and desperate, his hands somewhere in the pockets of his trousers and he takes out a scroll. ’You don’t know everything, Prophetess. It’s time you figured out how little you know of the world. Look around. This. This is reality, not only the Sun Temple, someone should make you see that.’

 _No you won’t just leave like that. No. You won’t._ She doesn’t say anything. Her hand moves without her mind noticing. All her anger bursting into one final hit. She only realises what she’s done after a few seconds. Her hands remain in the air tingling, blood rushing through her veins madly, she’s panting, she’s someone else, her hands which just slapped him are somebody else’s, but the credits are hers, the satisfaction she feels is hers, the demon acted, but she deals with the consequences. She wants to move but she just can’t. His face is reddened where she touched him.

Touched.

Strange to think that perhaps it was the closest touch she ever shared.

He turned his face back and looked at her. She waited for him to spit something dirty in her face, to attack, to hit back, to laugh into her face or whatever. But he did none. Just stared at her, motionless, speechless, such deep sadness in his eyes. Then he continued what he planned to do. His body slowly rose into the air. ’Coward!’ she shouted, completely sure he could still hear it. ’Pathetic coward!’

And his image fell into pieces.

She was standing alone in the dark corner of the Silver Cloud. In the Undercity. Surrounded by  dozens of prostitutes.

’You look sad, darling, want someone to cheer you up?’ one of them asked, with the voice of a machine, probably for a thousandth time that day. She didn’t even turn towards her, just flung her hair up in the air and slapped her in the face. ’Thank you. That cheered me up.’ The girl screamed and protested and Glinathra heard steps approaching, words from somewhere far saying that she could get into one of the cells for that, and that they do not tolerate this kind of behaviour here, but by that time she was out of the door and slammed it shut. Her muscles were burning, her fists clenched, too much strenght and anger yet in her. The scents she felt were like poison. The darkness felt suffocating. She closed her eyes and slammed her fists against the door. She bowed her head and leant against the door, exhausted and humiliated. It was kind of comfortable until the bartender, or whoever, opened the door. ’My lady, I have to ask you…’

’Just leave me alone! By the High Ones, I am leaving, do you understand, LEAVING.’ She shouted and stumbled away. She wasn’t sure they understood him because the talking didn’t stop. ’I should burn this whole place down.’ She murmured to herself, then went to find the darkest, dirtiest corner. She sat down, cuddled up, hugged her knees with her arms, her hair poured down like a waterfall.

_Coward._

 

*******

  
Only silent murmurs surrounded her but she heard the sound of a thousand waves clashing onto rocks on the shore. The fishing boat. Nightmare.  
Footsteps approaching. Just a few coins, yeah? ’Here, take it’ she held out her pouch without looking up. But the person who came sat down next to her, slowly, his groans making it obvious that it was hard for him to walk. But he doesn’t reek of ammonia and alcohol. He must have been one of the decent poor.   
’If you don’t mind my company, miss.’  
She shook her head. Too tired to apologize. Too tired to move. Too hurt to do anything. Now who’s being pathetic? _Drama queen._  
’You certainly caused quite a ruckus in there.’  
’Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.’ She sounds like a child who has been scolded and hides up in the attic waiting for someone, just anyone to console her. The someone who comes is obviously not the one she’s waiting for, but anyone is better than no one. She resisted the whole world. But it didn’t change the fact that she was being honest. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. Never. She hadn’t wanted to hit that stupid bastard, but yeah, she had, at that moment, but not the one after it, and regret will remain in her soul for years, for all the years she had yet to live.   
’You are the one who looks hurt.’  
’Maybe because I am.’  
Act normal, for Malphas’ sake, or your own, act normal for once... ’You don’t look like the usual folk here. Why are you here, sun child?’  
She looked up. _He really said that._ This time it was not her imagination only. ’A good question. A very good one.’ Though she didn’t show it, she was very grateful that there was someone to talk to. Yet she did not know what to say. ’I am only an idealist. I want to make the world, or at least, some part of it, better. But idealists always perish. Or so they say.’ _And I am saying the same things Calia did. I cannot even bring about my new, own ideas. I am a pathetic thief. A pathetic, stealing drama queen. Who cannot stop scolding herself._  
’Lass, I have been down here for twenty years, and I still have a hope for a better world. If not in my life, then the next one. Call me stupid, and be calm, many do so, this will not change.’   
She stroked the tears out of her eyes and looked at the wrinkled, dirty, old face with pure amazement. _See, Dal’Varek? This unlucky person is smarter than you. You should listen to him. Or to me, for that matter, but who knows where you are now..._ ’Your eyes are looking so far into the distance, Sunchild.’  
’I hate when they don’t see. When I want to tell.’  
’Is it about the silver-haired boy?’  
’How did you know?’ Useless question.  
’He is a sunchild, you are a sunchild. He was drunk, you are crying.’  
She had to laugh. ’Makes sense. Well, I believe you won’t make any profit of this, and you know anyway. Yes. He’s...’ Thousands of words, few to choose. Too few. ’I work with him, he’s... in the Order...’ she shook her head. ’This doesn’t matter, none of this matters! I just... wanted him... to...’ _I just wanted him, dammit, I just wanted him. And I don’t know why I’m using past tense._  
’To see.’  
’Yes. He had a miserable childhood, yes, but so did I, and so did so many others. This doesn’t mean you have to get stuck and pity yourself all the time. And... I am not doing it _all the time!’_   
’He’s young. He will listen.’  
’What... what is the link? The young ones are the ones who generally do NOT listen.’  
’He has a lot of time.’  
’Not if he goes on like this...’  
’But you won’t let it, will you?’  
’I am trying not to...’  
’Then go on, sunchild.’  
’Glinathra. Prophetess they call me, and other things as well, but this is my name.’  
’I was called Mardok once, but now they usually call me... nevermind.’  
’My pleasure.’ She stood up. She wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that the beggar was actually the Veiled Woman in another form. He probably wasn’t, but this didn’t matter. ’Thank you. And.. take this, for real.’ She held the pouch in the air. The man wanted to speak, but she didn’t let him. ’No, take it. Really. It’s the least. Absolutely.’ _I live in the Sun Temple, and money is not what I need right now..._   
She set for the surface...

  
  
*******

  
The stars on the velvety sky seemed to be watching him. The cold felt unhealthy against his previously hot skin, the poisoned blood quickly running through his veins. All this, the hills, the sky, the whole landscape seemed so beautiful, perfectly hiding all the dirt inside it. He walked like a lonely wolf, a stray dog amongst the trees, not knowing where he belongs, where or what he should be.   
Guilt was a feeling he knew too well. But it was always suppressed. He couldn’t bare it otherwise, it was masked, hidden, just like he did not feel the cold because of the substances inside him, only the aftermath was always so horrible, but he tried to forget, remember only the good side, that’s what everyone’s purpose in life is, isn’t it? Being happy happy happy and never worried, never sad, never angry, and turn even anger into happiness, but it just flies away so easily like candlelight.   
He knew he would go back. Once. But not just yet. He wouldn’t let himself freeze to death, because no matter how unlucky he felt, he was not ready to die. Never. Not because it would be cowardice, not because he still had so many things to do, not because of her, well, yes, maybe a little bit because of her.  
For some moments he thought it would be nice to leave it at that. She hated him now, and maybe it would be safe, it would be right. But yes, he would change his mind for next day, put up the safe mask of the easy smile and the mixture of worse and better jokes. That’s what they all saw. But not her, she saw something else. The question was if it was real or not.   
He looked at the stars. No one knew the answer. He breathed in the cold, fresh air and closed his eyes. How romantic would it be to die here. But unworthy, so unworthy.   
He sat there still for minutes, then headed back to the city. All places belonged to him and none of them really. Yet one little part attracted him and urged him to go on, which was not there before. He should explain something to her. Or ask. Or discover. Or whatever. But things need to be discussed. Somehow. Sometime. Not now, but... sometime...


	8. Consolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apology - kind of. And again, hopes get high...

She knew this was a nightmare again but she still couldn’t find the way out. She concentrated so hard, she'd already searched every little part of this place, but it was of no use. Nothing happened until she talked to daddy. She didn’t want to, but she had to. He was the key out. The key out was to walk into the flames. The only way to survive was to believe they won't hurt you, the feeling is not real...  
_You are not yourself, you just don’t want to see._  
_What am I then? Who will tell me? I don’t want to be dead. I have to stay. I have to stay._  
She screamed for help. From anyone. Anyone.   
Then she heard a voice.   
First she thought she was on that boat again. But surprisingly she couldn’t feel wetness all over her body and wasn’t freezing. Instead, she was sitting up on her warm bed in the Sun Temple. Beside her bed a figure she wouldn’t have expected to see so soon. _Do my nightmares attract you?,_ she wanted to ask.   
’...Save them. We need to save them... need to light the Beacon', she mumbled, not really aware of what she was saying.  
’What... but.. we.. we will. You found the Black Stones, and we’ll use them, no matter how hard Coarek tries to stop us.’ She stared dimly into the distance. Coarek. This whole thing suddenly felt so far than the stars themselves. ’But first of all, you should calm down. No offense, but you look like shit.'  
These words brought her back to reality. Her fists clenched and she glimpsed up, like she could kill with her eyes. ’Watch your mouth, Dal’Varek.’  
She didn’t know what to feel. Firstly it felt as if their previous encounter hadn’t happened. Jespar was his usual self again. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed by that. But no, he did not forget.  
He could come up with surprisingly normal sentences concerning that event. But she was looking for something else. Not the arguments that could be expected. _Guilt. You know that feeling? Apologize? Do you ever do that? Oh, no, you don’t. At most, you explain, but you would never EVER apologize._ Although there were parts for which he couldn’t have apologized. Regardless of the fact that it was his fault. Because it was his fault how he made her feel. Even being born with such beautiful eyes was his fault now, even that the sun didn’t shine so bright, everything... But she was a little grateful, that at least he came back, only one night later, he came back and he was here, when mostly needed.  
’Listen. You’re still angry with me, aren’t you? Stupid question, of course you are, and you have every right to be. That was a pretty disgraceful performance on my part. It’s just that... the past few months were a lot for me to deal with, and... what happened to Adila, it was the last straw... I said some bullshit down there, which you didn’t deserve.’  
She opened her eyes wide. She almost smiled, but warned herself not to. It would seem she is actually genuinely happy for a moment, and he... he must not get that yet. ’So you ARE able to apologize.’  
’It would seem so. Listen. You don’t need to forgive. Not yet, or not ever, if you don’t want. I just want you to... accept it. Maybe a few days or weeks later I will be able to thank you and you will be able to forgive. If not now, then I understand.’  
She took a deep breath. ’I am angry with you, yes. I didn’t want to hurt you.’ She still felt the burning satisfaction in her right palm. It as there, and will always be. She looked in his eyes, trapped them. She wouldn’t let him go now. _Hear, listen, watch now, my friend. You didn’t run away now, you came back, so you will answer now._   
’Oh, don’t worry, I totally deserved it.’  
’Yes. Without doubt, you did. But it hurt me too. And that is your fault.’ As these sheer complaints were set free, for some reason she felt so hopeful. Anger and relief merged in her words and her palm itched with a strange sensation, her body wanted a motion which was just not... adequate, not allowed. ’You provoked me, you turned me into something I didn’t want to be. And I thought you would hate me afterwards, and would never listen. Not like you previously listened, but...’  
’Well, I thought about it... I did think about never coming back.’ She closed her eyes and bowed her head. ’But I am here. And they are waiting for you.’  
’I don’t care.’  
’Hey-hey, that’s... that WAS my catchphrase, you are not the one who doesn’t care.’  
’Of course, I’m running to save the world... but I wanted to start with some... particular... parts of it.’  
’Do I sense that you’ll forgive?’ He held out his hand. ’I’m usually not one for promises but I will... and I have thought a lot about what you said. Let’s just say it’s over, okay?’  
There was so much more in his eyes than in his words. She took a breath and with a heavy heart her hand slowly and reluctantly slipped into his. She tightened her grip for one moment, just for one second she so vividly felt the warmth of his skin, she nodded once and then let go. Even more reluctantly, if possible.  
’Oh, and one more thing, before you leave. Calia, the sad-looking girl. How do you feel about her?’  
She stopped, startled. _What the blazes does he want with Calia?_ But the question was not what she thinks of her, but how she feels. _How on Earth should I feel?!_  
’I don’t know what you’re implying, I’m not sure I want to, but we’re friends. Why?’  
’Just curious. Thanks for being honest with me.’  
’Remember something about me, Dal’Varek. I am ALWAYS honest.’  
’And when will you stop calling me by my family name which now only I hold?’  
’When I have forgiven you?’  
’You haven’t?’  
’Not yet. But it won’t take long. I hope. Work on it.’  
His smile still lingered in the room after he left.  



	9. It's A Crazy World, Isn't It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey into the skies on an airship with northern lights and everything beautiful around, and a conversation long awaited...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long part is gonna be made up from the text in the game but of course some things are added. Some things needed to be added.

_"The pain and the pleasure_

_All come together_

_There is no reason why"_

 

She was excited like a child. She waited patiently for Tealor to finish speaking and nodded at his remarks and counsels, but she already knew she won’t go back to gather any equipment. She didn’t plan to set foot on the land too soon, she wouldn’t get off this airship, not for anything.   
The ship itself could have been named Part Of Something Important. This whole mission... they were nearing the end, she felt it. Some success had to be achieved, something just HAD to happen, and she was so proud to be able to see it. Even though not even so deep down she felt the dangers it could hold. Dangers. Dangers were everywhere, they didn’t stop her from enjoying living.   
They ascended and ascended, for hours she just stood leaning against the gunwale and staring at the air below them and the sky above them. Ark slowly disappeared, and now nothing but mist could be seen. They disappeared too. Time seemed to have stopped. They were secluded, isolated, nowhere and everywhere. Ascending. Free. So free.  
She wanted all this satisfaction and gladness to be set free. It wasn’t enough to watch, to enjoy, until these feelings were closed inside her. With her every breath she took something in, but she had to give it out. Her life, her soul, all her memories since she set off on that ship towards Enderal.

 

She postponed the chance to go and talk to Jespar, even though it was the first thing she wanted to do since they set off. She collected some thoughts and courage before that. But she told herself she just wondered at the beauty of this world alone for a while. That’s important. Alone time. Although, her heart was not at rest. Happiness had this nature of never being exactly complete, always lacking a small part, a tiny, minor detail, or not always so little, but one that was hidden, hard to be found, achieved…

She had a smile on her face as she approached him. She was hopeful at first…

’It’s a crazy world, isn’t it?’

’What do you mean?’

’On our way to a forgotten city in the clouds… And I’m part of it. That just sounds… surreal.  But anyway. It’s good that you’re here. I wanted to talk to you. Do you have a second?’

’I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t, would I?’ She smiled, her eyes shining green in the night, his eyes shining blue in the night, like the northern light up in the sky. _I have all the time you need._ She didn’t completely give in to that thought.

’You have a point there. I… How should I put it? I wanted to thank you. I’m not sure you know it, but all that has happened since I plucked you out of that thicket on the Suncoast… it did something to me. I think I’ve… understood something, as corny as it may sound.’

’That’s good to hear. More than you know, actually. Ahem. I could only hope it would.'

…and she got her hopes up high, content and satisfaction bursting in her heart, that what she’d done and said, were not in vain.

’You know… I still believe what I said int he Dancing Nomad. That we only act as we do because we hope it makes us happy.’

’…and is that such a horrible thought?’, she mouthed, eyes wide open, secret smile in the corner of her mouth.

’…but somehow, in no small part thanks to my father, I always thought responsibility and being happy to be contradictory. But actually, that’s wrong, that’s the exact opposite.’ _Good of you to realise._ ’In order to be truly content, we need… connection. To a person, to a cause, to anything. If you never find that, you’ll never find yourself.’

’You didn’t think so when you said we are born alone and we die alone…’ She still shivered from these words. The memories were intense and undeletable.

’Yeah, I said that, and I still think it’s true to an extent. You are alone if you want to be.’

She felt a sudden urge to push him off the airship. But she just… laughed. Angrily-happily, all the frustration held in her materialising. ’That’s… that’s not exactly the same. Not at all. It’s like you said that "Everybody must be a murderer” is equal to "Everyone who wants to can kill a man.”

"I… probably should choose my words more carefully.”

"Splendid deduction, Dal’Varek.”

"But now you're not angry with me.”

"Who said so? I can be angry, but forgive at the same time.”

Now the smile could not be hidden.

„I am responsible for what happened to Adila and Lysia, because I never wanted to be responsible. Sounds strange, doesn’t it? ’

’Not at all. You finally realized the truth, is all. But you sound like it’s changed.’ She didn’t know where her provocative remarks were leading.

’The fact is, that it… I don’t know, it kinda feels like I owe the world to be right here, right now, as a part of something… momentous.’

Listening to his voice was like listening to a river flowing by. She wanted to dive into that river, swim in it, be embraced by its freshness, but she yet feared that the drift might take her too far away.

’I feel the same way when I look… when I look around.’ _Yeah. Around. Surely, around._

’And I like how it feels, it surprises me.’

’Me too.’

’No matter how all this ends, I will have no regrets.’ _Are you sure?_ ’The same goes for our friendship, that’s what I wanted to tell you. Despite all the trouble we got ourselves into, I’m glad that our paths crossed, for whatever reason they did.’

When she heard the word "friendship”, she flinched. She was afraid of this word, not alone in itself, but in this context, about them, it meant some kind of barrier that couldn’t have been breached. She felt a possibility lingering in the air. The conversation was perfect, it could be ended easily, with expected kind words and then everything would go on like before. But she had the power to change, to control the course of events, that was the ability she enjoyed most in life.

Then she felt a glitch. A vision of sorts, shorter than ever before, but as vivid. Hands on her face, arms around her neck, a body pressing against hers, lips touching her lips.

Just a moment, shorter then a blink, it was gone, she was not sure it was even real. But she just stood there, shocked, and realized her whole body was shaking. _What was this? A warning? Who the hell could I ask? Only myself…_

’Are you alright?’

’Yeah, just…’ She could hear barely anything else than her heartbeat. Her breaths grew faster. _Just say it was nothing. Just say that the feeling is mutual. Say it. Say it, form the words._

’So it’s just friends now?’

_You did it. Now either the world will turn upside down, or the airship will fall, the clouds will open, the sun will disappear, or you will die this instant…_

She stood like a pawn, listening to him speaking, ans she was still alive. She had to process that, which took quite the time.

’I just don’t think it would work.’

_Okay, so please let me die. Now._

’Wh… Why…?’

’I’m… different, especially when it comes to love. And if you’re like most others, I don’t think I can make you happy.’

’I’m…. And do you think I’m like most others?!’ Her voice was louder than intended, but she didn’t care who else heard them. _If I can win this fight, then I am really something…_

’No! Not at all, but… in this case, most people… our friendship, it just… means too much for me to risk it for this.’

’To risk? Is it a risk to admit that you might… love someone?’ She had to say someone. It felt like a small protective barrier. Not much, but more than nothing.

’It… it’s not about love. It’s about what most people associate it with. Expectations. False promises. Jealousy.’

’That’s what goes with it. Responsibilities. But not necessarily, not always…’

’Look, there’s so much going through my head when I look at you, so many things I want us to do together. Travelling, talking through the nights, being close to you.’

 _I don’t believe this is happening. I really don’t._ She fought hard to hold onto the world, to reality. She wanted to remain in these moments, just these words, not the ones before them, nor the ones after them… too afraid of what might come next. So beautiful, so hard to let go, hopeful and terrified.

’That’s what I want, not chaining ourselves into some kind of ’construct’ that other people created and expect us to abide by.’

’Who cares about other people?!’ She seriously expected someone to tell her not to shout. But, as she just mentioned, other people didn’t matter. Oh, she wouldn’t care if the whole population of Ark was watching and listening…

’I’m just… not a fan of what people call "relationships”. My way of loving is not compatible with most people’s expectations. I mean, how can you honestly promise someone that you’ll love him or her forever? Nobody knows what will happen twenty, thirty, heck, even one year from now.’

’So you, my dear disillusioning realist, believe that everlasting love is a fallacy?’

’No. I don’t. I’m just saying there is no way of knowing how long it will last until it does. Do you understand? Life is unpredictable. You never know what’s going to happen, especially when it comes to emotions. And I simply have a problem with people pretending they do. Even if I were to love someone with my whole heart, I could not never promise in a good faith that I will never find myself at least physically desiring somebody else. In most people’s books that makes me a cheater, and makes my feelings for that somebody less true. All those poems, the plays, the songs, they always talk about ’Us two’, ’all or nothing,’ and ’Until death do us part’. But that’s just not how real life works.’

’It just might be. You have desires even if you don’t have someone, yet you do not have to give in to them. You owe it to yourself. Do you think I never desired anybody? Never thought about what it would be like to kiss some stranger in an inn or in the street and just let them take my clothes off and have their way with me? I could have done that, I don’t believe everyone would have protested. But it wouldn’t feel right after that, and that’s why I stop.’ _I can’t believe I’m saying this. I should just stop talking now. But I won’t._ ’Do you think I wasn’t curious how you looked under that fine blue coat of yours? It’s natural that people feel things like this, but the solution is not to sate your every need the moment you feel like it.’

That left him speechless for a while. She just tried to calm herself down – unsuccessfully – and tried to process that she really said these words out loud. No way to go back now. No way to go back.

’Well, love is one thing, sex is another.’

’Yeah? And the two always exclude each other?’

’But this is not just about sex. What I don’t like is compulsion, possessiveness, and lies. And for most people, that’s what "love” seems to be about.

’Well, as for me, I’d never lie to anyone… I’m not so sure about being possessive.’ She took a deep breath.

’In my experience, emotional bondage was never a good basis for human relationships. If you love someone, let him run free, because if what you have is true, he’ll always come back because he wants to, rather than being obliged to.’ Her hands, her mind remembered the sensation she felt when she hurt him and deeply she wanted to repeat that. She wanted to grab his shoulder and aggressively smash him against something hard. She wanted to cry, to scream, to drum her fists on his chest like a small, fragile girl. At the same time she felt pathetic. And hopeful as well. _You can change. Everything. Words. Words can change anything._

’He won’t want to run anywhere if he has all he wants in me’, she said slowly and silently, with warm determination. ’If he doesn’t get bored with me. And what about me? If he runs free, I can too?’

’I would never tell you who to look at, who to sleep with, as long as I know I’m the one you plan to keep.’

’Huh. And if I by any chance wouldn’t want to sleep with anyone else than you, it would be despicable and stereotypic, right?’ The words felt like honey in her mouth, poisonously sweet and tainted and making it hard to form sounds. Her eyes were pleadingly honest.

’It’s not an obligation, just a possibility. I guess, all I’m trying to say is, if you really want to do this, let’s not put a name on it, ever. Let’s just… see where it takes us.’ 

’I can’t really believe we’re really discussing this.’ Saying everything that came to her mind seemed the safest thing to do. And somehow, it didn’t feel so dangerous anymore. ’But I… I want to… I’ve waited so long for you to say it. So let’s… let’s see where it takes us.’ _And not just see. I know where it will take us because I will act so it does…_ Her cheeks were red and her eyes glowing so bright.

’Really?’ The sweetest surprise and disbelief in his voice. ’I thought a lot about what you’d say, but…’ _Oh yeah… so you thought a lot about it… and yet you waited to be provoked, oh, you little…_ ’Oh, why am I still talking?’

She just can’t bear to stay silent. ’Because talking is…?’ But she can’t finish the sentence. She was enclosed in his arms. The sensation was familiar. Lips against hers, soft, gentle, yet possessive touches which then turn into a little aggressive fight for dominance. It was her vision. It was real, it was there, now. Her eyes were closed but in her mind she saw the blue-green lights above them. _Talking is good. Or is it? I forgot._ The pain and the pleasure all come together, there is no reason why.

 

 


	10. Jespar Dal'Varek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final relief and an unexpected night of pleasure

She hugged him so close than never before. Not even when he lay dead in her arms, not even her dreams, never. And she was finally allowed to. For a few moments she still believed she would wake up somewhere and fate or the High Ones or anyone would laugh into her face, but… if this wasn’t real, than nothing was. All her senses were touched. All of her, her whole being like a plain sheet of paper painted full of colours by his touch, his smell, his kiss. She wondered why she saw a glimpse of this before. Maybe because she had a chance to avoid it. Or she had the chance to fight for it, and that was what she wanted. She never wanted to let him go, and no matter how many nights, words, years or decades it took, she would make him understand, she knew that. But for now she was grateful, so grateful. After a while she couldn’t resist a relieved laugh, breaking their kiss. She then just cuddled close to him, pushed her face against his neck, listened to heartbeats.

She was unpracticed and unexperienced, but her mouth fastly learned how to move. Her eyes closed for minutes, she felt lost, but safe and hidden from the eye of the world. She thought about how else this could have happened. In the Crystal Forest, outside of Ark, in the streets, in the Dancing Nomad…. She had imagined many other places and occasions, but none of them was better than this. Nowhere else, no other time, no other way. A little bit it felt as if this was happening to someone else. But her own lips were burning, her own hands touched Jespar’s soft hair, his shoulders, his back…

 When he kissed her neck, that was the last straw. She couldn’t remain silent anymore. If kissing her lips was the most vivid green of the fresh leaves in spring, then this was a whole pallette of more and more beautiful colours. She kind of felt them, like the colours could move, right in front of her eyes, her mind. Emotions and desires turned into something more wonderful that she’s ever seen. If the strongest emotion in humans is pride, and the craving for it, the strife for it, and the gladdest moments are when one is satisfied and finally reaches his or her goal… If safety is when you know you cannot be harmed by anything, when you lie in something warm and welcoming, if the expectation itself is better than getting what you wanted, and you’re only happy if you have always another thing to crave for, than she was the happiest being int he world.

Of course, glad to share it with the one that caused this. Because it added to the thing. As his breaths grew faster, and his lips seemed to devour hers, as she felt him wanting her, the sensations doubled. She didn’t know what would come next, how they will avoid tearing each other apart.

She would have lost her balance if it wasn’t for him holding her on her feet. He was much shorter than her, she had to lean down to kiss him. It felt strange, anti-stereotypic, powerful, but nevertheless she did need someone to lean on. She was the weakest when she seemed the most determined. But eager to show this weakness, because now this weakness could be cared for, caressed, and she could linger in the calming sense of protection.

She didn’t know how many minutes have passed, but she felt their bodies getting more and more tense. She felt the urge to just lie down somewhere, because her legs didn’t want to hold her anymore. ’Would my fair lady accompany me to somewhere more… comfortable?’, he murmured into her ears, and when he smiled at her, looking into his eyes she felt really beautiful. Firstly for a long time.

’More comfortable than this?’

’With fewer eyes to watch.’

’Why not?’ She couldn’t focus on the relevance of her sentences, couldn't think logically for that matter. She didn’t know how they finally got to her chambers, but it felt long, they stopped multiple times to share a kiss and try to hide themselves from the walls, because there was no one around. She didn’t know how she would react if there was someone to see them.

He pressed her against the door and sealed her lips again, while his hands were searching for the door handle. After they got in, it was his back against the door, the room dark and silent, his hands caressed a bit lower than her back. She felt a mixture of pride and shame as his hands were wandering on her body. She conquered his mouth like it was necessary for her to live, like a person coming up from the water gasps for air. Not so desperate, but just as possessive. _As for possessiveness, I cannot be so sure._

All the anger and frustration she held in herself was in that kiss. She bit his lips but he didn’t seem to mind. She grabbed his lower arm and dug her nails into it. She bit deeply into his neck, and was rewarded by a surprised groan after that. She could only imagine what he felt, but if it was similar to her feelings, it had to be wonderful. And painful. But he deserved it. Long ago, but there had been a time when he’d deserved it. The punishment was sinful, but necessary. Ambivalent feelings fought inside her for dominance. She remembered wanting to cause so much pain to him, wanting to rip his clothes off and giving him the only thing she seemed to want, she remembered knowing how that would ruin her life and everything they ever had and could possibly have…

She was so shaken by the memories that her whole body started shaking. Again. Moved-angry-self-pitying, asking-for-forgiveness tears were running down her cheeks. ’Hey-hey-hey, what’s wrong?’

He sounded so beautiful, so caring. She hoped it was real, hoped it so much. When she looked at him, she knew it was real. ’Nothing, I’m just being over-sensitive.’ He placed all those small kisses on her face. She blinked away the tears. She couldn’t have imagined him like this. Maybe he’s never done that before. She wondered if all these touches, the form of her body was all too familiar for him. How many bodies could he have seen, touched, kissed?... But it could’ve never been exactly like this. No. She would make sure it was special. In a very good way. ’I was so angry with you, so damn angry.’

’I know. I’m sorry.’

He kept on going down towards her neck, it made it hard to concentrate. ’I wanted… to do so many things with you. Bad things, horrible things. ’

’But you didn’t, and that’s what matters.’

’You’re not easy to deal with. Not at all.’ She had his hands on his shoulders and held him against the wall. It felt so good to have power. Until then the only way she could get rid of her anger was useless. Like shouting into the wind, or smashing your hand against the wall, and then your hands would hurt, and the wall would feel nothing.

But now she had a body between her and the wall. Her lips felt strangely dry from the kisses, tingling, and waiting for more. She slid her hands under his coat, caressing his hot skin she had seen under much worse circumstances in a reddish light. He made her work easier by impatiently taking it off. Her sense of order otherwise wouldn’t let the poor clothing lie on the floor in such a chaos, but right now she had more important things to deal with.

She stepped back a little so that her hands had space to touch him. She wanted to map and discover every inch of his body, because now he belonged to her, and she wanted to make him completely hers. So she let herself be peeled out of her comfortable blouse. Her underwear still partly covered her but yet she felt the familiar sensation of fear and shame. No one’d ever seen her like this since the time she was a child. But she’d looked… different then.  She couldn’t have been said to have small attributes. She looked for his eyes to see how satisfied he was, but she had to close her eyes and turn back her head. Her skin was covered in goosebumps where he kissed her. Her face, the edge of her mouth, the tip of her pointy ears, behind her ears, down her neck, her almost uncovered breasts… There was plenty of place to touch. He held her so close, fingers stroking her bottom and her thighs, she could feel his hardness pressing against her.

’You’re excited.’

’How could I not be?’ His breath felt hot against her skin.

’Your excitement can be felt. Mine is not so obvious. Not so… touchable.’

She looked questioningly and mischievously into his eyes. He looked more than eager to be touched, so she started moving her fingertips downwards. She circled around his nipples and lingered a little to stroke his muscular belly. The deep V-lines which ended in the obvious bulge in his trousers. She moved slowly, carefully resting her palm on it, admiring its form and hardness. Really, she’s read books and heard remarks, but thought they were all some usual exaggeration. But no, they weren’t.

She obviously couldn’t hide her surprise. ’Content with what you feel?’ His sighs and ragged breath made it clear that he was.

’I… don’t know what’s the right answer for that. I've just never… nevermind.’

’I haven’t forgotten, fair lady.’

She moved her fingers up and down on the experimental ground. Her other hand rested on his face, she softly kissed his sensitive lips, devouring his moans as her fingers played with him through the thin material. She started to feel sorry for him being closed in there so she decided to rid him of his last pieces of clothes. He helped her clumsy fingers, than took them in his hands.

’I’m not afraid’, she said, and looked at her shaking hands.

’I didn’t say you were.’ He kissed her, kindly and yet hungrily. _Maybe I am. I am afraid of how I will cope once this is over. But if it won’ be…_ She let her eyes close, hot blackness surround her. Her hands looked for his excited manhood and surrounded it, then just remained there, until his hands slid onto hers and urged it to move. _Impatience._

Up and down. Up and down. So easy. So damn easy and so damn rewarded. She looked onto his face, she wanted to see the joy in his eyes. _It’s hard to believe what I’m doing to you know, right? Jespar._  She leant closer and whispered to his ears. ’Jespar Dal’Varek.’ Somehow touching his body and saying his name felt to have the same effect. They brought satisfaction. They made him hers. She just loved saying his name and now finally she didn’t have to do it angrily. Warm softness ascended onto her. She slowly took that round-shaped ear of his in her mouth. She wanted to touch his whole body with her lips.

His moans caused the wetness between her legs to increase further. Maybe her excitement really could be felt. And suddenly she wanted to be touched there…

He felt so fragile in her hand. So hot, his skin so soft, yet one pressure and all the pain he could feel.. but no. She wouldn’t hurt her. Not now. Biting into his neck was not considered hurting.

She suddenly grabbed his shoulders and pushed her towards the bed int he middle of the room. ’Hey’, he laughed, as he regained his balance, but her body already slicked against his. Their crotches touched as her inner thigh stroked his legs with the steps she took. Then he let himself collapse on t he soft blankets as her hands pushed his chest.

’You okay?’ she asked, worriedly. _Never find the balance…_

’More than okay, why wouldn’t I be?’

’Just asking. Hoped so. Never done this before.’ Then she kissed him hard, his lips were a bit thicker than hers, and so, so soft. She towered above him on her knees and palms but didn’t know what to do from now on. She descended slowly until her trousers-covered womanhood touched his hardness. He enjoyed the sensation for a while, then grabbed her hips and turned above her. He showered her with kisses. Her face. Her lips, her ears, neck, breasts, collarbone, belly… She raised her hips to allow him to take off what remained on her. Her legs were exposed. She was covered by nothing. It felt strange and unfamiliar. Pure and clean and completely naked, unprotected. But that was the point, she thought, that she was protected.

Trust.

He stroked her thighs… She took deep breaths and ruffled his hair with her hands. Soft silver silk between her fingers. Her legs unconsciously spread to let his hands take their route however they wanted. After a while she got used to it, being touched at places she’d only imagined.

His mouth was getting closer to a sensitive area. Her heartbeat was in the skies, well, they were actually in the skies, but literally… she could hear nothing else than her breaths. She closed her eyes and waited for his tongue to venture into the untouched territory, well, mostly untouched, of course, she had pleasured herself many times, but beside herself nobody touched that place.

’May I?’

She looked up and could only manage to nod. Hot wetness. Her nails dug into the blanket. She wanted to touch him but she knew that it would only hurt. She tried so hard to stay in one place, but that was just impossible, just like trying not to let all those high-pitched sounds out. She covered her hands with her mouth, bit her fingers and tried to process the thought that she had Jespar Dal’Varek  between her legs.

Eyes fixed on the ceiling. This is not a dream, definitely not a dream. _I would never tell you… who to sleep with… Well… sure… Like I would want to sleep with anyone else…_

She won the fight. She smiled and closed her eyes again. She didn’t stop her moans, she couldn’t. When she leant up on her elbows, she saw that with his one hand he was stroking himself slowly. She could not take her eyes off that sight. No matter it made her want to dig her nails into his body even more. ’That’s my job, Dal’Varek.’

He licked his lips. ’Sorry.’ She walked up on his knees between her legs, than cautiously lay down. She’d never looked into someone’s eyes from so close. A different perspective. His eyes were like a different planet. A star dying and reborn. A blue butterfly, like the ones she collected for Rynéus.

She closed her eyes and softly undid her hair. She thought about changing a hairstyle long ago, she felt too stiff, too conservative with that not let out, not braided, but somewhere-in-between style of hair. She felt so fragile, cold air and hot skin touching her, wild, rebellious, inconsequent. Her hands wandered unreasonably everywhere on his body. His aching desire pulsing against her thigh. He pushed her knees upwards, soft but determined. He kissed her everywhere like he was ready to devour her, but savouring every last bit of the delicious meal. He touched her with his lips like every time he was expecting rejection. And every time she had to open a part of herself, to let a part of the castle collapse in her which held all her doubts and fears.

_Falling to pieces._

_You love me and I froze in time._

His scent was so close, and there was something else in it. Something she’s never felt before. The smell of desire. Exciting, disgusting and beautiful at the same time, like almost everything concerning organic life.

He buried himself into her neck, but she wanted to look in his eyes when he entered her. She held his face in her hands. She wondered what was seen in her eyes, she was afraid of course, but fear, this word was not enough to express how she felt. She always thought when finally she would come to a situation like this, she would feel like it’s compulsory, like there is a time in her life when it is no longer allowed not to have been touched by a man. And what she feared was that she would not find the one worthy for it. But it was not the case. She welcomed him gladly, and with true desire. His pupils grew so large that his sea blue iris could barely be seen. He pressed against her eagerly, impatiently, with a strange sense of caring, it felt so… naturalistic, so profane, a certain part of his body sliding into hers, she tried to slow down time and make some kind of copy of these moments so that she could remember them later. But she realized it was not the moment to be remembered, but all those lots of moments after each other, and however strange and unusual this might have felt, the things to be remembered weren’t limited to these few seconds.

What she felt outran every one of her expectations. Every atom in her body was shaking, she looked strongly into his eyes, holding him in an unbreakable grip, she wanted him to see how her face changed, no matter how inhuman that might have looked. What surprised her most was that she really couldn’t help opening her mouth. She noted that if she kept on comparing her experiences with what she’s read in books, the rest of the night would be really funny. She was not sure if it was a problem.

Books.

_You know, for the lonely nights._

She realised late that she’d let out a little laugh. Every sound was so intense, breaking the saint silence that has conquered her mind. Her body let go so easily, as her soul seemed to finally have found its place. Overcoming the different sensation, she started to feel the vivid pleasure, which was like the real image of what she’s just tasted before. Craving and playing with herself, that was just a shadow, this – this was the shape itself. Real, present, undeniable, like they wrote on the pages, but different, unique and unrepeatable, like every fragment of her life. Like the colours are different for everyone. She wanted to savour it, every moment of it.

His hands felt like hot streams of water stroking her. Water - freezing cold, water - burning like fire, water - soothing, water – drifting you far away, no use swimming against the stream. Go with the flow. Swim with the flow.

She hadn’t gone with the flow, she had to break through a layer of ice, to reach the hot water below.

’How are you feeling?’ Again, the voice was surprisingly sheer, breaking out of the monotonous repetition of sighs and heartbeats. She was surprised to hear him, though his voice was unlike ever before. Well, at least what she heard so far. Honest, a bit shaking, impatient, vulnerable. Perhaps she wasn’t expecting him to say anything.

His moving hips made it a bit hard to answer. ’I… in… how many words?’

’As many as you like.’ He continued kissing her. Awkward moments, trying to adjust to the rythm he dictated. Her lips sealed with kisses, his hair soft, his muscles tough, his hipbones so damn attracting between her fingers, her lips wide open, panting, hair disheveled, thousands of silver snakes scattered all around the sheets, his hot breath sending goosebumps all over her arms, his nails caressing her skin, his face buried netween her breasts, touched, caressed, bitten, loved, wanted… How did she feel?

She attempted to form some meaningful words between her moans and sighs and ragged breath, but to no avail. Her aggressive heartbeat felt like the bars of a prison she could not get through. She wanted him to stop just for a little while and feel him inside her, motionless. She pressed her thighs hardly against his, she felt his excitement rising. She bit her lips, and his lips, then hers again, not being able to control her body’s motions anymore. It felt like a fight, a wonderful battle with her senses, a challenge even to stay in one place, a challenge for her mind to stay in her body. It felt, again, just half belonging there. She felt hungry, hungry for more. It felt strange that her pleasure was in somebody else’s hands, and not only in his hands, to be precise. She wanted to touch herself, but afraid to initiate it directly. Her hands started to caress her own face, she drew random patterns on her breasts with her nails, surprised by the softness and tastiness of her own skin, stroking her belly, and finally, his hands lead her farther down. Her face was already red, but if it hadn’t been, she would have blushed even more. But he didn’t seem to mind, just the opposite. So she did not object. The movement of her experienced fingers added a new  sensation. A familiar one, but it was amplified, and she feared it might be over too soon, numerous times she felt she was at the edge of the peak of her pleasure. He knew it, she saw the hunger in his eyes and the eagerness, the readiness to observe the most closely how she reached satisfaction. but she held back, because she wanted more, as long as she was able. These times she took such deep breaths, like the air that filled her lungs was all the joy and completeness of the last… minutes… hours… months… His moans were her life-giving nutrition, his eyes the mirror to the world, the blood in his veins the only way to stay sane. Her thoughts chased one another, without meaning, with only one purpose: to move, fast, racing towards something and racing from it, running around and round in a circle which turned into a spiral, and it meant that sometime it had to end.

Sometime.

But not now.

And not even now, and not int he next moment.

There was always a next waterfall, the stream took her farther and farther int he dark, where other senses than sight ruled. Colours filled her mind that she did not see with her eyes, but she felt them. Pasture green, light yellow, sweet blue, purple like the melody of a bard song, crimson red, shapes, patterns, wide awake dreams. Voices, words, sentences, never to be repeated again.

His moans were her food. His heartbeat could not be distinguished from hers. His motions were the awards for her strife.  His lips were unquestionable promises. His smile was the long-awaited answer.

His existence was the meaning of life.

 

She tilted back her head, as hips moved, her fingers stroking her sensitive spot seemed to send her over the edge at any minute. She throbbed, her whole body jerking and her hips moving faster to quicken the pace. It was a torment to let go of herself but she had to, if she wanted to last, which she wanted. She held him closer in the tightest embrace, her nails dug into the hot skin on his shoulders, but his impatient pleasured groans indicated he did’t mind it one bit. She was surprised how fast she learned to feel how to move. She was not worried now, only wanted a little bit to prove she is able to cause pleasure, not only receive it. It was fantastic to just lie on her back, raise her breasts once in a while for him to wonder at, let him kiss and bite her lips and neck, but she felt she didn’t have enough time. For anything. She was impatient, she wanted more of him, to see him in every imaginable angle, to feel every part of him, to get satisfaction but continue to feel desire because that’s what keeps people going.

She didn’t plan anything to be over after they’ve collapsed on one another, or after this night was over. Or the next. She wanted to tell him somehow.

She was so close again. She shut her eyes, her hands trailing up and down his wondrous body, from his face through his back to his bottom and thighs, feeling every muscle tense with every movement of his hips. Her sighs became erratic, her voice uncontrollable, high-pitched sounds leaving her mouth, wetness dripping from her sensitive parts, as all her willpower was needed to keep her on the ground. Or, more precisely, on the bed.

’Don’t torture yourself’, he said, and she looked into his greedy eyes with a smile. _You’d like to see that, would you now?_

’It is not... torture...’

’Of course it isn’t.’

’You have tortured me enough...’ This sentence had nothing to do with what their bodies were doing to each other.’

’Aw. I’m... trying to make up for that. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.’ He leant closer without stopping moving, but nevertheless his voice was clouded in lust, he sounded like he meant what he said. ’Really. Don’t let me hurt you.’ he whispered into her ears, and the way he said it turned her on even more.

’I’m glad you... don’t want me to... enjoy being hurt.’

’That’s, that’s not... that kind of hurting. But no, I don’t want to do anything like that to you.’

She wondered if he had done those kinds of things to anyone. But this was not the time to ask. She knew she would some time later, though.

’Jespar?’

’Yes?’

’May I...’

’You may do whatever you wish.’

 _If only I knew what I wish so surely._ ’Would you mind if I were on top of you?’

She thought it over in herself twice whether she really wanted this. She didn’t believe that it happened until the world turned over and suddenly she was on all fours towering above him, her palms on his shoulders, her breasts caressing his chest. She sank into his appealing gaze and leant down to kiss him. She wanted just a little stroke of the lips, but he didn’t let go so easily. She slid off him as she tried to adjust her place, straightening up. _It can’t be so hard, you can do it. You can do anything you want._ She did never hear such a stupid convincing than the ones in her head. But she wanted him so much that she didn’t care. It felt strange to feel her body unfilled again, somehow empty. He was like a warm building she was eager to run back in from the cold.

She couldn’t help touching herself. Her fingers ran down on her body to the swollen desire between her legs, as she bit her lower lip, she felt unreasonably powerful and happy. Sinfully happy.

He watched her with hungry eyes, one hand cupping her butt, the other wandering towards his erection. It was not small in the first place, but it had certainly gotten bigger since he first entered her. She was proud and pleased and excited. _That’s my doing, that’s what I am doing to you._ She could not help staring. He was so large. Obviously natural, but she was not the most experienced being on Vyn in these matters, so she was surprised, in a good way. It was wondrous how at first it was unbelievable that something so huge would fit into that tiny part of hers, and now, she craved for its touch to fill her. And move. Like it had always been a natural part of hers, from the beginning of time.

And now it was up to her.

It was so entertaining to watch his hand stroke himself that she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt him. She had never seen a man please himself. She knew she could be done for if only she watched him do this for a few more minutes, but she didn’t want that. With satisfied moans she watched, devouring the sight that she saved in her mind for the rest of her life, then she reluctantly but with strong determination, stopped the circular movement of her fingers and slid them into his hand.

’Allow me’, she said in a low voice as she replaced his hand with hers.

’Feel free to... ah...’  It took a time to adjust, to get used to, to learn how to hold him in her hands to reach the most pleasure. It felt so good taking control, making him moan and sigh with just a little turn of her fingers. Up and down, cautiously, envying the pleasure he must have felt, then when she could wait no longer, she raised herself up from her haunches and adjusted him into the wet heated cave of her body that longed for his presence.  She stopped at the entrance for a few moments, rocking back and forth, enjoying the sensations of his manhood stroking the outer part of her sensitive organ. Then she descended, slowly, inch by inch, savouring every moment as he stretched her apart again. The welcoming, wet heat was tight against him, but let him slide in easily and eagerly. She let out softer and not so soft moans and closed her eyes. Skin touched skin, she let herself go down until he was completely lost in her. His hot member throbbed inside her. She was whole again.

She was home.

She started to move, and her lips parted again. Jespar was only waiting for that. He watched her like a hungry wolf, her figure rising above him. She felt so desired and beautiful, the way his gaze cherished her body changed her outlook on herself as well. She stroke her breasts, it was not easy to keep them in one place, of course, nobody wanted them to remain in one place. She thought they were both so beautiful. And even though she didn’t stop exploring his body for one moment, it was not yet enough.

‘How can one night be enough?’ she moaned, rather than asked.

‘Wha… who said anything about one night?’

Panting, she managed to collect her words.

‘Not… not like that… it’s just… if you’re with a person, even if you want nothing more from them, just their body, it’s… there’s so much to it, you can’t get everything in such a little time.’ She didn’t know if it was time for philosophizing, but she didn’t see why not. Probably most others would view her as weird, but she didn’t care about anybody else now. Or their opinion.

His wolfish laugh made her blush. ‘I’m trying, if you don’t mind, but I’m happy you have expectations…’

She panted, for her every moan he answered with another one, like they were chasing one another up somewhere so high that there was a danger that the fall might be too painful. She was sure actually, that it would be painful, but she didn’t mind.

She looked down on their naked bodies and her mind filled with satisfaction. Aesthetics, as their two shapes collided with each other, it was so thrilling to see him sink into her body with his every thrust upwards. His muscles tensed with every movement of his hips to join with her. She felt so close again, so close to something she’s never reached yet. He leant up on his elbows and enjoyed the view he got at her wonderfully built chest.

‘Glinathra…’ Maybe it was the first time he called her by that name. ‘You have a beautiful name, you know that? And a beautiful body, too.’

She smiled. ‘You can’t complain either.’ And he was talking… The way he enjoyed her, his face, his partially parted lips, his almost almond-shaped eyes, the line of his cheeks and jaw… he was so damn beautiful. And so far only in her deepest dreams did she hope to see such expressions on his face.

She couldn’t help but smile constantly. She waited for him to ask what was wrong with her, but in vain. He just kept on kissing her, when he was not wondering at the sight. Their moans didn’t stop even when their lips touched. He totally set up finally and closed his hands behind her back, holding her close, they rose and sunk back together, like a dance, a neverending one. Well, it had to end, and it was not far either.

His disheveled hair.

His breath grew faster and his kisses more possessive, feverish. She felt grateful, so grateful for every sensation. She caressed him like he was her own. Which he was, now. ‘You’re making me feel so fantastic, Dal’Varek.’  She grew accustomed to saying obvious things now.

His pleased moans were the perfect answer.

His sounds filled the silence. She devoured them, focused on all her senses, inhaled every touch and voice and let them raise her excitement even higher. She felt she could let herself go at any moment, cry out, and… no, just not yet. She saw stars, literally and not literally as well, hot skin brushed against hers, she waited, prolonged, enjoyed, she panted, the air was not enough.

Her breasts against his chest.

His dark grey eyelashes.

Her face against his shoulders.

His hands on her waist.

Her hair covering random parts of her body like yellowish-silver snakes.

She cried out, she felt she could no longer hold back, it felt like looking down from the edge, just before falling down, but the impulse started the process and there is no way back, and the stomach just twists, realizing that the fall is unescapable. She had to open her mouth, and as loud voice broke the nonexistent silence, with that pain mixed with joy, she felt all her suffering say goodbye to her, her whole body and soul devouring him, creating a bond of gratitude for this pleasure, the pleasure between her legs, spreading up to her stomach, her chest, her head, she could feel it reach her eyes, her lips, the deepest, darkest pit of her mind, filled with colours and scents and sounds, every part becoming one with it, with him, a wave took her up, a wave in the sea, a hot sea, embracing her, seeing her like she was, without anything covering her, then letting her slowly float away, holding her up, to rest, to busk in the aftermath of what she’s just seen, to caress her one latest goodbye, and…

No. She would not let go.

She held him so close as if her life depended on it, she shook with every wave through her body, clenched herself around him, let all those voices come out of her, let him hear it, because that was just what he wanted, because after a few more thrusts he let out a moan which was different from the others, not too loud, not too silent, but different, a perfect, sensual closure, as his hot seed filled her.

He lay down on his back and she collapsed on him, breaths slowly, slowly slowing down, she rested her head on his chest, waiting the pleasure to go away but it wouldn’t, it just help caressing her and she smiled, at least when she had the strength to move. She just swam, swam with the stream, eyes closed, her mind savouring the memories of the vivid sensation. Her joy would not disappear, like an echo, it haunted her for minutes, which felt at least like hours. She felt like she received everything she wanted. For all her life. Right now, on this bed. And she was sure she never wanted to go anywhere else.

‘Should I climb off you?’ she asked the owner of the wonderful body under her, just in case.

‘No need’, Jespar assured her, panting, stroking her back. She feebly smiled again, her arms stretched out on him and the blankets, clinging to him, weak, fragile and happy, like a newborn.

Breaths.

Heartbeats, slamming against their chests, raging, so fast. The chase was over, but they needed time to slow down.

Slow.

Down.

Peace. The balance slew the demon.

Harmony.

She could fall asleep like that. She knew she would. It was perfect. Even though such things as perfect did not exist, but it was. These were all the feelings she could hope for. So close, so honest. Listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Or her own. She didn’t know anymore.

Images, mixing up in her mind. Colours, floating, beautiful colours. His scent imprinted deeply in her mind.

Scents. Sounds. Voices. Hard, soft, beautiful.

Jespar Dal’Varek.


	11. Echoes of the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jespar remembers the past and tries to concentrate on the future.

Jespar almost had to laugh at how guilt has woven itself through almost every moment of his life, no matter how he tried to conceal it.

Peace and quiet, the coldness of the blanket where his hands lay.

Lysia.

He remembered that day so vividly, the remembrance reappearing regularly, usually being killed by drinks, loud music, and ’fun’, as he liked to call it.

_Her words keep replaying in his mind. Please, just consider… you’re a bastard, a self-proclaimed fool. She shouted angry curses at him with the same intensity she had shouted his name vigorously between lusty sighs and moans, hanging on to him like he was her god, her toy, completely hers to play with, hers to do anything with._

_He needs time alone. As if it would solve anything. The raging sea in his mind doesn’t seem to provide answers. The woods are thick, she might be raging back there at the camp, but she would not cry, oh no, she would never cry in front of others, or if she did, she’d cry violently and aggressively. Never like an innocent, small, hurt baby girl. She was not a crybaby, she was a determined, strong woman, that’s what he liked in her._

_But living a life with her? Living a whole life with anyone? He felt a trap, a shackle, a chain, frighteningly cold against his skin. He felt cornered, what he saw in her eyes was no longer the reflection of himself. It had worked as long as it was desires he saw, desires she reflected. He loved her body, she loved his, but then why the dissatisfaction? He could not admit to himself that he was not what she saw._

_He was not what she saw._

_The bandits came at dusk. He heard the voices and something stirred up in him. Out of instinct, and, partly, as an obligation, he ran back, but he didn’t dare get close to them. Hiding, he searched with his eyes. Large, primitive bastards, they will surely lay hands on her, if they haven’t done it already, he thought. But strangely, he didn’t feel what he was supposed to. Jealousy, a sense of protection? Nothing. The only instinct was the one for survival. Run, a sound told him, and he watched her, her chest slowly rising and sinking, and maybe just for one moment she looked up, their eyes met, she wanted to shout his name with desperation but then she fell silent. He turned around and ran, never looked back._

He shouldn’t have been thinking about her.

He took a deep breath and turned to the sleeping woman beside him. Such serenity on her face, painted by the bluish shade of the outside lights. He could spend all night looking at her, which was mostly what he’d been doing.

The only thing he could think of was whether he was worthy of being here. If this beautiful specimen knew him for what he was.

Because he no longer did. Only that saying the things he'd said was a relief too long unexperienced. The memories of this night filled his whole being, he wanted to pack it and hide it from anything that might cause it some damage, to be able to take it out somewhere safe and sound and silent.

He almost felt guilty as he reached out with his hand to touch her hair, careful not to wake her, out of pure selfishness, because he had no idea what to say in case she woke up, she was partly afraid of it. Afraid of himself.

Enough of it.

He was tired of constant denial. He concentrated on her trust in him to make himself believe it was the truth. It had to be. Looking at her honest features, completely calm, safe… he felt like the luckiest person int he world to have the chance to give her that. And she was not like the others. She was not like anyone. Maybe it was enough for a change.

Nothing that has happened since she appeared was like anything usual. He should have seen it. Her feelings had been hidden in her words, they could be decoded as something completely normal, of course, but if he thought back, he could trace down the slowly building affection. He smiled. How stupid he'd been. And what a coward. She had been right, and it felt strange to be able to acknowledge that. He never thought he’d once be happy to see what an idiot he was.

But it was more than fantastic.

For he was that no more.

He let the colourful lights in the sky fill her eyes and the soft, silky touch of her hair caress his palm, the rythmic sound of her breaths leading him to a pleasant state of almost-slumber.

 

*******

 

She didn’t have nightmares. She didn’t remember any of her dreams. She awoke with the sight of light green trees and sea blue in her mind. (A little purple here and there.)

When she turned, her mind yet had to process the awareness of the warm body beside her. As she adjusted to the daylight, she remembered. Again. And she gave the world a thousandth smile.

’Everything all right?’ she asked. She just needed to say something, anything, to break the silence and assure her it is reality.

’Oh, hey’ he said. ’I just didn’t get much sleep. Too many thoughts, I guess.’ His voice was different now, always different, spiced with a layer of kindness she’s never heard of him before. Time flowed like honey, just for these few moments. She enjoyed them, with closed eyes.

’I feel guilty now. I slept through the entire night without remembering any of it.’

’That’s far from the truth.’

’Some part of it.’ Her face went red. ’Damn, I feel like a girl with about ten winters behind her back.’

’You’re cute. You don’t always have to be so determined. I won’t see you weak, childish, or anything like that, before you start thinking about it.’

’I wasn’t.’

’Good.’

They savoured the minutes as if they were infinitive, which was unfortunately not the case.

The others must be waiting.

The others.

Why did there always have to be others?

Although when she finally climbed into her clothes and headed out, life didn’t feel at all exhausting. It didn’t feel frustrating that she was surrounded by other people than a particular one. It felt like a new world, every sensation firstly experienced, the first time that the sun shone this way on her skin, the first time the air smelt like this.

Everything was new. She was new. She was… different. It felt different to put one leg after the other. A spark of redness lay on her face every time she looked at him, every time somebody uttered a remark. She was unexperienced and she didn’t mind. There were most important things to concentrate on, but always in the back of her mind a thought lingered, and it would never leave, she knew. It was somehow more important than the reliefs about the cycle. It comforted her when she feared for her life, it urged her when she tried to find the map among all those papers. It calmed her down when the escape pods almost shook the life out of her, and she was well aware that all the others must feel the same…

And it almost killed her with desperation when she climbed out of the pod, and she found out she was alone.

It didn’t take long before she realized she wasn’t, but for those moments she barely dared to breathe. Jespar’s rare and caring words caressed her heart as a balm, she wanted to jump into his arms and say thanks in every waking minute for him being the way he was.


	12. The Eye of the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is nearing its end and it is up to her to decide what will happen.   
> Suddenly it all makes sense.   
> Or not.

She’d always hoped he would be by her side at the end. Now it looked like they were getting close to it. Tealor, Sha’Rim and him.

Then Sha’Rim turned out to be against us from the very beginning. The problem was that she felt more understanding towards him than towards Tealor. His cause could be perfectly understood, and she no longer knew where her loyalties lay.

She never wanted to be on anybody’s side. She was just twisted and turned by the flow of events. The only thing that she DID want was to be with Jespar, but now she was worried that something might happen to him.

And how right she was.

Just in the middle of their investigation, the Earth shook and this time it wasn’t her vision, it happened to them, not the Pyreans. Maybe to them too, but…

She knew she would be too slow. Her mind wanted so much to see that it abandoned almost completely her physical form. She was halfly in another world. _It’s like you’re here, but not completely. You’re half here, half… somewhere else._ Then rocks started falling. Panic raged inside her, she wanted to move, but couldn’t identify the directions. She heard shouts, warning voices, then a sheer, very sharp but yet dull hit of pain, and…

…and she was awake again. What has passed in between, was an empty lair of hidden thoughts. Wasted minutes, damned, wasted minutes. Tealor’s calming words. Urging words. We need to go. Mission. Have to go… have to find… have to save…

’Where is Jespar?’ The only one thing missing. And the most important. _Why didn’t they say anything? Why are they silent?_ ’What?’ She looked in Tealor’s old and worn eyes with desperation. And hatred, suddenly she felt hated. He was silent. Why was he silent?... She didn’t bother with her pain, nevertheless it felt horrible, like her body was falling apart, piece by piece… but…

’There was nothing we could do, I’m sorry. We only found you.’

 _No. No, you can’t do that._ Breathe. Just breathe. Slowly. Staring in front of herself. She asked again. But still couldn’t understand. Could not accept.

’But… we must find him!’ A declaration. Cannot be changed, no matter what anyone says. She looked around, identified where they were. Then ran back to the pile of stones. She remembered. She looked down at her body. Scars everywhere, and the worst couldn’t even be felt. She shouted his name multiple times. Not a trace of anyone anywhere.

_No, you won’t. You can’t do this to me again. You won’t die by an ACCIDENT, you idiot, you won’t. You cannot do this before I am planning to save the world…_

Her mind travelled a journey through time, cause and effect, trying to find anything that would ease it and provide an explanation. Maybe he wasn’t even real, just an imagination. That all of this is a dream, it would be too easy. But… maybe this part. Maybe she’s till in the Dancing Nomad and will wake up next to a sleeping Jespar and they’ll go on a mission together. Again. And then save everyone.

Maybe… yeah, maybe she still has a family and somebody had been drugging her for some time, and her father will put them into jail. Maybe she’s still a ten-year-old girl in a farmhouse. She wouldn’t mind being a common person. She wouldn’t even mind never having met Jespar Dal’Varek.

But him being dead… That was out of the question. The worst of all.

And despite that in the crazy slumber of her logic already decided the events unreal, she was still madly crying and shaking herself out of Tealor’s arms which wanted awkwardly to console her. His words were distant and she felt like the little child she imagined herself to be. She wanted to hide her whole identity in a small spark of reality, live all eternity in a lie, but this truth was unbearable.

Finally, as she’d done many times before, she cleaned the visible anger and sadness off her face. _He must be around somewhere. We will run into him._

’I’m sorry, I know how close you were.’

She didn’t say anything, but doubled her pace. _No, you don’t. You really don’t._

***

She didn’t want to believe her ears.

’What? You’re… leaving me here?’

’I am sorry. In your state you would only hinder my actions. I cannot take that risk. Farewell, Prophetess.’

For minutes she just sat there, lingering in her various sensations of pain and unbelief. Then she laughed, and laughed so hard that it hurt even more. But somehow it felt satisfying. _Everybody leaves me. Fine. Just perfect. Maybe they were right, those High Ones with all their negative speech. Nobody needs my, I can’t change anything, I will just rot here._

She wasn’t even afraid of the suffering. She would have many time to think. She decided she would use those yet sober hours to remember all her sweet moments with that mercenary. And the butterflies she’d collected for Rynéus. That wonderful painting about them, in the sunset. Cold, beautiful tears  painted lines on her face as she out her head down on the cold floor. How many deaths could have happened here?...

The colour of the grass on the Sun Coast. Lysia. Where could she be? .. If she didn’t concentrate on her physical unwell-being, life at the moment felt strangely good. _Will I have that dream again? I hope not. I don’t want to see Daddy again. I rather saw somebody else…_ Even if he wasn’t real. Even an unreal Jespar would have cheered her up.

But she received somebody else.

The Veiled Woman.

’Oh… you show up at the most unexpected moments.’ She tried to smile. She started looking at her like an old friend, although their "relationship” was at the least very strange and difficult.

’If you watched the course of events, this should not be surprising at all.’

’Fair point.’ A new spark of hope. Of change. Change was what she needed the most. She didn’t understand anything, only that she was saved… and someplace else. ’But…. Why do you save me? Why am I special? I know I am not special, everyone keeps telling me that. Well… not everyone. But why don’t you save Jespar? You have done that before…’

She knew she was talking to nothing, since the Veiled Woman was long gone by then. But it felt necessary to ask. The question arose in her: would she sacrifice her life for his? And she found herself believing that she would. Although, not gladly, because leaving him alone was the last thing she wanted.

She followed the only course she saw, and hurried, although she was totally lost in time and space.

The new light of hope lead her. But then she found the Black Guardian.

Dwarfed by the giant metal figure, her heart pounding in her chest, she opened her soul and let all the questions flow out from there. Since he knew. He saw everything. Well, not everything, but a lot.

She pitied him for that. It could have been horrible, chained here, forced to watch the world… do the same mistakes over and over again.

She didn’t know why she was worthy of knowing the truth. But she soon realized it was as much of a burden as a blessing. A chance to decide whether to hate humanity or not, for being so stupid all the time. Every time. How many possibilities were there? And they lead themselves to destruction. They, themselves.

_So we are our enemy._

_All the time, we’ve been our only enemy._ _Comical. Now am I allowed to feel just a little pride for I have just a little doubted Tealor’s actions?_

Just a pawn in the game. On a chessboard.

The Black Guardian didn’t understand why she was laughing. It felt like the whole suffering she’s been through would free themselves. ’They’ve told me so soon! All the little facts, they all told us… Tealor said that personalities reappear in the different generations. So we’re just… the same… characters.’ _Damn, it feels strange. I bet the ones before me must have been… just a little… different. Each person must have different feelings and memories, they didn’t kiss Jespar like I did, they didn’t watch the sunset at the same time, didn’t listen to the same music and didn’t have the same thoughts… they couldn’t have… I must be just a little special, even if I am no longer alive._ ’That mad person, a possessed, near Duneville,  looked at me and asked ’Where is your flesh?” She looked in front of herself but what she saw was not here. She was not talking particularly to anyone. The thoughts just came out as they appeared. It all made sense. Every part of it. „Aixon, the man in my vision when I entered the Order… He said something about water filling my lungs. And in my nightmares, Daddy, he always said I am not myself, I just can’t see yet. They saw. They knew, but I thought it was only a… manipulation. It’s a lame turn, to be honest. That it was all true. They’ve said i tat the beginning.’

The High Ones probably didn’t care about commentaries.

It felt as if the world’s weight was on her shoulders, when the Guardian showed the two perspectives.

 _Why? Why is it up to me?_ She felt so small in a huge mass of burdens. Looking up at the ancient figure was nothing compared to what was in her soul. Like as a child, she tried ti imagine the whole world, and got lost in a scary, black spiral that seemed to devour her.

All in her hands.

 _Since I’ve lost everything… I might as well lose myself._ Some strange, warm feeling climbed up to her skin and into her heart, and she was crying again. A fleshless one, crying.

Fleshless. Dead. Nonexistent. Yet able to change the course of the world. A pawn that came to its senses. She, the fleshless one, took deep breaths. She felt she needed them. She completely felt like a human, her skin hurt, her heart hurt, the memories were real, it all felt so real, and nevertheless, it was all of no use… It was so wonderful, in the end. The complete senselessness of things. Humanity’s hatred against humanity’s hatred. Humanity’s ambition against humanity’s ambition. An endless circle, and there she stood, at the eye of the storm.

 _So all those kisses weren’t real. He touched a dead woman. He touched something that wasn’t even there. A dead person shaped his identity. A dead person caressed his face and a dead person cried when she lost him._  The dead person was strangely proud of this.

She partly made her decision, but she had one question left. ’Can I ask one more thing?’ She decided in herself that nothing mattered anymore. Her nonexistent heart burst into a thousand flames, she was like a wild animal that had nothing to lose. Not even herself. It felt so easy. She was a ghost and the wind was blowing through her. She was the voice of the wind. She herself was the voice of the wind she so eagerly listened to. She wanted to solve the mystery, but the mystery was herself. She was staring into the mirror and thought that her image was staring back into her, but she was the image. A leaf fell onto the water, and the image turned into a shaking blizzard of chaos. Gone, forever. ’You said you see everything. Jespar… is he really dead?’

She opened her eyes wide and her heart pounded with expectation, because it still mattered. It felt like the only thing that mattered. The whole world could die, but she still had to ask… had to find…’

’He is, I’m sorry.’ She closed her eyes slowly and let the tears flow. The sentence has been spoken. She let her shoulders shake and the sobs take over her. It was more silent now, soothed by heavy revelations. Yet it changed something in her. From now on, really nothing mattered.

She stood alone in the incomprehensible mass of eternal blackness. Alone in the dark. Alone in the light. So white that she could see nothing else. And eventually, it wouldn’t matter if the blindness was black or white. There was only one thing, the nothingness, it was the same, after a while the memories would fade and there would be no colour. No contrast.

She pushed the button with a kind of sympathy. He’d asked her to do it and she understood it completely. She would have wanted the same. She felt proud and happy that she could help him, put him to rest… She wanted to say Farewell, but then something stopped her. Something was not right.

Unexpected.

’The two of us will now exchange places.’ _What?_ She stared in front of herself and didn’t want to believe her ears. Then she started laughing. Again. _Oh, by the name of the Sun, what happy moments you cause me…_ The change stirred up something in her. ’You are unbelievable. Don’t you see you are all the same? I thought you actually SAW, but… you just proved that you have not escaped your crazy pride. You are just like all the others, just like the ones you mentioned. You think yourself above all the others, and…’ She just laughed. The irony. The irony was sweet. And the light was blinding.

She couldn’t even reach the thought that she would be closed inside that machine for good, because she heard a voice. ’Come now, quickly!’

The voice belonged to a person who was thought to be dead – multiple times. _Oooh, you damn bastard… So you lied to me, not even just once… Was there any truth in what you said? –_ one part of her thought. Another fragment of her just laughed, at the whole world, feeling utterly above anything and everything, finally seeing. And another one just screamed silently because…

Because… Jespar Dal’Varek was alive. Again. Or… still. Or… whatever. And if Jespar was alive, then the world’s weight didn’t even matter.

 

***

She held him in his arms, so tight, so strong, never letting go.

Yet letting go was exactly what she seemed obliged to do.

She waited long before she finally spoke, she didn’t know how to start, how to go on, and how to finish. But eventually she told him everything. Words came after words after words, like it would never end, like the neverending cycle they seemed to have trapped themselves in.

She looked into his eyes desperately, fearing the answer, the reaction more than anything so far. She thought she would see contempt in his eyes or at least disappointment. That he would see her as she really was: nothing. But nothing seemed to have changed.

’What do you think I should do? I don’t know if you are the right person to ask. I don’t know if I should even ask anything, perhaps I shouldn’t even tell anyone, but I can’t. I just can’t keep all this to myself.’ _„For this man?” … Yes… for this man… He’s the only one I have left._

She clinged onto his words like a straw int he water while drowning. She wanted to believe him, that sacrificing herself would be pointless. She felt the urge to make this decision. But if she stayed with the plan she partly already decided in her heart…

She wanted to go away. With him. It was a possibility she could not resist. It shone like a sinful temptation and still seemed somehow… unreal. So many times she’d lost him and so many times she’s gotten him back. Got Life itself back. Though she wasn’t completely sure anymore what life was.

He said he wouldn’t live to see the new mankind… And something struck her mind. ’But… you… you would!’

’What do you mean? I’m not… I’m not like you…’ He kept away from the words. Fleshless. Dead.

’The Veiled Woman brought you back. Like she did to me. There is truth, possibly, in what the Black Guardian said but we already know he planted so many lies in his speech. I would be dead but I’m not. You were dead… you were actually dead, I saw you…’

’Well then, there is no question.’

’It doesn’t even shock you?’

Jespar smiled. ’Recently so many things have shocked me… I think I’ve gotten used to it.’

Despite everything she laughed. Again. ’I can’t believe it. That it’s all up to me. Why should it? If I’m like all the others, why do I have to decide?’

’You’re not like all the others.’

’You finally noticed.’

He almost angrily closed her in his arms. _Damn. Thank you. That’s all I needed, you at the end of everything. Or the beginning of everything, but if I were completely alone…_ ’I don’t want to. It’s so hard, I don’t want to leave them. If I… if we leave, I will feel like I’ve abandoned them all, like it was me who killed them, again. I… I saw them…. The Pyreans… burning, suffering, I don’t want to cause this again…’ She knew she didn’t have any more choice, but it felt so good to just talk. Her complaints were an echo in time and a plea for forgiveness. Because in her soul she knew what she was going to do. Just needed more convincing. To make it feel right and just.

’It won’t happen again. Is that not enough?’

’How can we be sure? How can I know that humanity won’t be stupid enough to do the same mistakes? How do you eradicate selfishness and hatred from people? No one managed to do that, not even groups, than how could two people achieve it? HOW?!’ It was not him she was shouting at. It was all those people back then who created and nurtured this monster. It was all the bad feelings that led all those civilisations to their dooms.

The pawn who has come to her own senses shook and suffered and waited, when there was no time to wait. Another human stroked her hair. She took deep breaths, she felt as if she needed them.

’But if I’m fleshless too, why does it hurt so much?’

She looked at him. Who created who? Who could bring back life, which was not completely life? Who was the Veiled Woman? Perhaps they wouldn’t find out in a million years. ’We shall…’ She closed her eyes and inhaled. ’…we shall leave. I don’t know what you are, or what I am. But I won’t accept that you die. Especially not before me. If all these miracles happened, than this should be able to happen too. I… don’t know anything anymore. How can you look at me like that? I am nothing, Jespar, don’t you see? Since the first time you met me, even then, I was dead. I did not exist. I am dead, you see? I’m no one… why should a dead woman decide over life and death? Why should I not give my nonexistent life for the world’s sake?

’That’s not true!’ She stood int he accusing light of his eyes. ’You do exist, you made so many changes, you even changed me, does it not prove anything? And who can tell if it were of any use? If you are dead, you can’t do anything anymore, you might not see, but they might commit the same mistakes again. If you live, you can have a new world. We don’t know what will happen…’

’…until it does. Yes, I know. But can I take the chance? How long until… how long until a new species develops?’

’The Wise Hermit knows, but… damn. I can’t. I just can’t tell you to go and sacrifice yourself. I don’t…’

 _You shouldn’t have asked him_ , a voice in her mind said. But she resisted. She fought the hardest battle with herself in all her life. Her real one and the fleshless one. They stood, two figures holding onto each other, their last hopes in this world. And the next one.

Because there had to be a next one. ’Let’s go to the escape pods.’ She felt as if a river had flooded over her. She could not stop the stream and had no idea where it would take her.

’So… your decision is final?’ The hope in his voice was the same when they spoke on the airship. His last sentence before he first kissed her.

He did so now, with such happiness and relief that felt unworthy of this moment. She couldn’t stop her tears. Calia, Lysia, mothers and fathers, sisters, crafstmen, children, oh, poor Rynéus… so many have died and will do so. So many sweet memories, she will hold onto them always.

They ran and ran, felt the clock ticking. Escaping a sinking ship, in a hope to find a new island, with shining sun and fruitful trees and a kind, welcoming new world… only it was their task to make it so beautiful…

It was so hard to let go of each other, but they had to go into two separate pods. ’We will meet soon. Take care of yourself.’ Her whole body was shaking. Of excitement… and thousands of yet unnamed emotions. She looked around for the last time. She couldn’t understand that it was the last time she saw this Earth. Maybe the last, or maybe not.

Jespar hugged her hard for the last time. Oh no, not for the last time. He looked closely into her eyes and said, ’It was the right decision.’

She could barely conceal her tears. ’There is no right decision. But it might be the best one.’ _Go. Just go. Before you change your mind._

She closed the door, sat down and then the whole world started to shake. It was familiar. Like the last time she used these pods, they were, again, trying to survive. Escaping. _Am I running from reality now? Am I running from my responsibilities? Or am I really doing the good thing?... Who will tell now? They will all die, there will be no one to tell. The Veiled Woman? The Aged Man? His house disappeared, wonder knows who he really is… perhaps we will meet him somewhere…_

_Calia, I’m sorry. Everyone at the Order, I’m sorry. Lysia, if you were still alive, I am so sorry. Everyone, I’m sorry. But it was your fault, somehow. I promise I will try to make it sure it does not happen again. Ever. I will help those who come after you._

_I am sorry._

_Nothing will be the same. Ever. No matter how many years it takes. I will help you. You, who not yet exist. I will do all I can. We will do all we can._

_All we can._

_All._

_We._

_Can._

Getting farther and farther, darker and darker. Blurring noises and sounds, so vivid, so disturbing… but then it grows slower, as her senses are dulled by the speed and she knows what will come next. What the Fleshless experiences so many times. Unconsciousness.

Eyes closed, she says goodbye to the world. The only way she can do that is by honouring their memories, with the last brink of her thoughts. Sunset, smells of freshly prepared food, winkles on the bedsheets, bard songs…

…into the Winter Sky…


	13. At the Top of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glin and Jespar arrive to their new lives, and they don't regret that they chose life instead of dying. They establish a life in the Star City, far from the catastrophe, all alone, just the two of them. They have all the time in the world (almost), and it"s up to them what they use it for.   
> In the meantime, they acquire a pet steel dragon and develop a gadget with which to observe the Earth (as a fleshless eye).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YenwcI-Z1EU

_"Moonbeam shines bright in the city of angels, guiding the dreamers back to life"_

 

She’s sitting on the carriage. It’s raining.

Never before was it raining… The raindrops seem to play some kind of melody. A requiem to the world. She starts to walk about, she knows she will be led somewhere. Cold water pours on her face, mixing with hot tears from her eyes. Soothing. Bathing. Cleansing. Water can put out the fire. It was water that she died in, sunk deep into the water, her lungs filled with it… cold… fleshless… But she’s not afraid of it. Water puts the fires out. Water stops the burning.

 _I have to be the water._  She’s the raindrops. She’s the puddles on the muddy road. She’s all the rivers and lakes, creeks, seas and oceans. She’s all the ice and all the hot geysirs, she’s all the tears and all the blood. She’s the image of the willow reflected in the lake and she has come to life. She turns the world upside down. The image becomes reality, reality becomes the image.

Jespar. He’s standing there, like a carved, wooden figure, in the middle of the road that leads to the house. Without words and motion, he’s telling her to stop. The inexplicable sensation pulls her to him, but before they can touch, he disappears. She goes up further, with pounding heart, then turns back, and sees him farther down.

So not the house.

Without thinking, she follows him, and he disappears again, turns into ashes, fades away like a picture conjured from smoke, like images on water when a leaf falls on it. _No. I will not let you fade away._ She chases him and she knows this time it is no kind of trap. The world is silent, Daddy is not here. The High Ones have no power over her. She is out of her game.

_"The High ones want to manipulate you. They know your desires.” Well, he IS my heart’s desire…_

They go back where the dreams always starts. At the beginning _. It all begins with the dreams._

 _What will begin now?_ She reaches out for him and in the last instant, she can feel his warm touch. Then the world fades away.

She has escaped. Darkness curls up in her mind like it lives there, and her mind is a perfect, welcoming home. She never knew how to escape because the decision wasn’t final. _If I can shape reality with my mind, then I will._

Fades away. Everything fades away. " _As her life fades away…”_

 

***

 

The consciousness wakes up again.

The senses start to work. Dreaming or awake. Dreaming or awake? The things she sees are familiar, already coded in her brain. Stone. Trees. Sky. The light of the sun more intense than anywhere else.

_A ray of light breaks through the sky…_

She’s lying somewhere and does not remember what happened before. So familiar. Just a pawn int he game. But not anymore. The pawn has come to life and broke out of the game. She welcomes the recognition of the world after a dream, when one realises that the truth is totally different from what happened inside their minds.

_We are out of the game._

Jespar.

The fist conscious thought in her for a long time, the first thing that she asks herself: where is he? The other part of her, without whom there is nowhere to go, nothing to see, he is needed like eyes are needed for sight and legs for walking.

Blinding light shines into her eyes, green is all she can see, silence, almost complete silence, but the melody still plays in her mind. The edge of the world, he’s sitting there, awake. He’s always awake when she sleeps. 

_And she joins him in the sky…_

She silently walks to him. She remembers his first words about his place. She was jealous. She was actually jealous of the Star City because he found it more beautiful than her.

She sits down next to him.

Like a nightmare. Just like a nightmare.

’What now?’ She asks and this question is heavier than any she asked before. Golden light fills her heart.

’That’s up to us.’

These words open the whole word, they break something that should have been unable to break, and let water flow in, soothing everything that was burnt.

She smiles at the world. The empty world, the fallow soil which is yet to be planted with beautiful flowers. And now she can be the gardener and weed them out, so they can live and prosper.

 

*******

 

They sat there for a long while, looking at each other’s eyes, when not in the distance, well, there was distance there too, such a long distance into a future unseen. They kissed as if their kisses could redeem the world of any pestilence it would have the urge to grow again.

’You didn’t even hesitate to come here with me.’

Jespar Dal’Varek, here, at the end of the world. Her, with the one being she loved the most. That was more she could ever have hoped for. She felt the urge to act like a child, laugh and run all about the place. There was no one to see, but there was she, to feel. But she just kept on looking into his eyes because she could not believe.

She looked in his eyes and searched for the person that seemed to be one of the most typical male representatives of the corrupted mankind. He used to be that, she remembered, but he was so different now. He was here, that was the most valid proof.

’Why should I have? What other chances did I have? You… you offered me something that is more than I deserve. I couldn’t say no to that.’

’Can you say no to anything?... I can’t believe I can still make jokes.’

’Should you be someone else than yourself?’

’ _You_ are not who you used to be. They say… well, they used to say… since now I believe there is no one down there to say anything… that women always wanted to change men. I can’t believe I am a stereotype.’

’If somebody, than YOU are not a stereotype.’

She blushed and had the most surreal feeling ever. ’Does it not… scare you?’ She waited for him to ask…

’What?’

’That we’re… the only ones. We are kind of trapped. In living. You might have to live… hundreds.. millions of years here. With me. Only.’ Her voice almost faded away at the end, but the idyllic silence made everything audible.

He looked at her in a way that she suddenly wanted a skill to create a portrait with only her eyes and brain in that exact moment.

’Staying with you for a million years is the last thing that scares me. I don’t really know what scares me, but I’m happy it’s you. You can do it, I’m sure. Who knows what we’ll become in all that time until they… they…’

’Evolve?’ The word was frightening, it contained such a distance that their young minds could not yet process.

’Yeah… but if I have a place anywhere, than it’s here with you. You will be the perfect guide, and I’m so glad to be at your side.’

’So am I, Jespar, so am I…’

***

They were like children, and the Star City was their playground. They wandered in it like int he rocks and waterfalls and haystacks, like int he forests and abandoned houses.

The steel construction, the dragon-shaped machine attacked them again, but after a few hours of planning and a few days of previous search they found a way to shut down its trap-mechanism. It felt a little like their fights back on Earth, only there was nothing to fight anymore. The beast became friendly after it recognized them as its "owners.”

’We should really give it a name, what do you think?’ Jespar asked.

’The only name that comes to my mind is Gertrude. I’m not a good name giver.’

’Well, we certainly have time…’

’Stop with your jokes about time, please…’

’Why?’ His smile was like that of a small boy’s. She’s never seen him this happy back there… And she felt really guilty, because many times the thoughts in her mind about Jespar and the changes he’s been through led to such conclusions like here, in the Star City, there is no alcohol, and there never will be, if it’s up to her, and also, there are no more women.

Although, she would have made sure he didn’t need any more of them even if they were not closed in up here.

It took a little time until they made the place comfortable. She had never done anything like that, but they had to build a livable place out of ruins. Although no one could complain on the view. The trees always provided nutrition, although neither of them was sure whether fleshless actually needed food. But in every aspect they felt like real people, so they acted like that.

They dedicated their incomprehensible amount of time to research, they searched every part of the City before they built anything in its place. Mostly they left it as they found it, they wanted the place to look like when they first found it. Secretly, or later not so secretly, they hoped that some time later the Pyreans might come back. It would be good for them to recognize their homeplace.

They found scattered pages and writings everywhere, and after years or sometimes decades of decoding, sensible pieces of information appeared. Not long after their arrival, they found a machine with lenses with which the Pyreans might have observed the world on Earth. It was broken, of course, and needed a lot of time to mend, but it indeed provided a vision through the clouds, and in cloudless nights and days the surface of Earth could be seen, so close that one felt like if they moved their fingers, they could just touch it.

Glinathra, her heart burning with the excitement of a researcher and the guilt of the sacrificing one, looked into the metal cylinder and watched with terror. According to her geographic knowledge she could figure out from the forms of the continents the places she knew about, seen and lived in.

’No one lives there now’, she said. ’No one.’

There was not one night in the hundreds that she didn’t think about those left behind. All those many. But always in the corner of the shades the spark of the new hope came.

Jespar hugged her from behind and kissed her uncovered shoulders. ’They will. We are going to see the beginning of creation…’

She was impatient. She’d always been impatient, and seeing a world completely empty, a husk waiting to be filled was just unbearable.

The statues, they had to be there. They had always been there, even before their civilisation came to its existence. Maybe someday they will be found again, a reminder of what should not be done…

She always asked herself the question: ’Will I be able to lead them? To show them the way? And how? There are so many in the world… Or their will be…’

Her companion’s eyes glowed shining green. The colour of the trees yet to grow. ’You cannot wait to cross the bridge, right?’

’I know, I must wait. But I am afraid of what is to come.’

’While we are waiting, I think I know a way to relieve you of your stress.’

’Closing my eyes won’t ease the problem’, she said, firmly, gazing determinedly into his eyes, but also with a spark of smile int he corner of her eyes. She knew she wouldn’t say no, why should she?

’But the problem is not yet a problem, nor will it be, since we are the problem-solvers. I, on the other hand, already exist, and so do you.’

And during their waiting, their soul feasted on the delights of nonexistent flesh.


	14. Drops of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile our two favorite dead people live their idyllic life in the Star City, on Earth something begins to spread again.

While they waited, studied languages, created stories and explored numerous previously unknown ways in order to entwine their bodies with the purpose of experiencing euphoria, among the ashes of the dead world, at the bottom of one of the deep greyish-green oceans, in a storm a stroke of lightning reached a rock, and from a speck of dust, its complete structure changed by a logic that the speck of dust did not understand, a new life was born.

It did not know of its existence either, of course, it just hovered in the void. And, as if knowing that life is the most horrible thing if you are alone, it split into two, and then those split into two as well, and they grew until they were thousand times bigger than the original one. And a million times. And a trillion times. They were still just primitive organisms floating in water, and no human eye would be able to see them. But there wasn’t any human who would watch them. Those who existed, were so high up, that even with the Pyreans’ advanced techniques their sight couldn’t reach something this small.

The process, however, started. Nobody knew where it would lead. Except a very few. But they hid. They hid and watched, afraid to believe that anything could turn out differently than before. But they hoped.

 

*******

 

It was so hard to process that they didn’t HAVE TO do anything. It felt like they were on a constant holiday. They could have measured time, of course, they did so, too, but they didn’t pay attention to it. All the perspectives changed. Age seemed not to leave a mark. But actually it did. Sometimes years felt as if they'd happened seconds before. In their previous life. A blink of an eye, which would have been a human’s lifetime. But the beginning was so slow, they began to understand. The beginning is always slow.

They needed no categories for each other now, and needed not fear the stamps of society, since there was no society. The only one was themselves, and in their rules, they had a life of perfect harmony. Shockingly, being without anybody else than each other seemed to have no negative effects. The absolute change was calmness. Eternal calmness, which appeared in the lack of what was previously: running, hurrying, deadlines, approaching death…  The only cycle they saw was the sun and moon coming up and down, and the Earth always showing its different side to them. From the distance it felt like it was a ball to play with. Life felt like a giant game. Just a game.

She always tried to find the trick. She feared that what happened was still also part of the nightmare they managed to escape in, that maybe she again did something wrong, causing the same thing to happen again. Some days Earth was like a bomb waiting to explode. But life… life cannot be all wrong. And neither can humans.

 

*******

 

One of them was different from the others. One of them swam farther, many have done this before it, but it survived, by coincidence, and because it was smarter than the others. A wave took it up, the whole world twisted around, it wanted to go back to the comfort zone but the steam was unstoppable. Finally it hit something, something hard, and it was in pain, dying, out of the material that  it lived all its life in: water. Shaking, turning, fighting for its life, it managed to get back. It was lost, far from home, but the pressure felt the same, and it no more felt like exploding one moment later. It was familiar. Safe.

But something in its body changed. And after it had offsprings, their body was different too, and after a while the water was just not enough of them. So they went out. As so many did before them. But they were unaware. And they were also unaware of how much they were different, and became different after it. Branches, so many branches, they spread across the world, which was the new playground for them. Unfortunately, they had to kill to be selected. They were primitives. Those who died were the necessary sacrifice.

 

*******

 

Or so she told herself. The cool wind blew her hair as she watched, so many times, for years, obsessed, and only her only one beloved could bring her back from the brink of madness sometimes.

’Closing your eyes is not always denying the truth, you know. Sometimes it is about sleeping.’

Philosophising with Jespar didn’t always mean hours long debates about the meaning of life and death. Sometimes it was just about everyday issues.

 

*******

 

’Which one, do you think, will be the first?’, she asked, lying on her back on the self-made hammock which hanged between too trees, their leaves cutting a sheer line into the mild purplish-blue of the sky.

’Hm… They look nothing like us. Not yet. Not like monkeys. Not like anything I’ve… ever seen before…’

’What about those… fox-looking ones?’

’Which?’

’You know, long nose, pointed ears, red fur… they look like foxes to me. But they are not carnivorous, that’s exactly why they are hopeful.’

’They look more like… red… tabby cats. Or I don’t know.’

’You are right, their eyes are catlike. No wonder, they originated in the deserts.’

Jespar sighed. ’Don’t say "I told you so”, but I again have the urge to just go back and try to teach them to speak.’

’You can’t, and you know why…’

’What’s the problem with them learning our language? Why is it we that should always adapt?’

’Because… there’s only two of us, and if they evolve to be a nation, or more nations, they’ll be millions? Trillions?’

’You’ve got a point there.’

’Also, you’re talking about language, when those furry little things are nothing more than tiny, sniffing creatures yet. Their only purpose is to… eat, and… reproduce, and…’

’To use fire?!’

’What the…?’ She jumped out of her bed and ran to the lenses.

’Look.’ She leaned close to the giant construction, her sight travelled across unimaginable distances, a faraway continent, a forest, a clearing, and two little foxlings, sparks of ember lightening up between their paws. She watched in awe, not completely believing her eyes. The creatures just looked at the dry pieces of wood, and seconds later it was in flames. The pups – they were young – scurried away, but then they curiously, slyly climbed back out of where they were hiding.

’It’s not their hands, they don’t have hands. Their paws are like just any other mammals’.’ She watched closely.

’They did it, they just did it with their eyes, or I don’t know. How by the Wise Hermit can animals have magic?!’

No matter how many millenia passed, the Wise Hermit was still praised. Or cursed, sometimes. But, nevertheless, mentioned.

The spark of hope she felt in her heart every time she saw something like that was unimaginable. It was not easy, dealing with all this, since the Pyreans, or the Star People didn’t leave anything like Ways to Play god behind.

’Jespar. How will we help them, if we want to avoid them looking at us like gods, but we… we are still kind of that. For them, at least. Until they understand. And maybe even after they understand.’

’Just the everyday problems…’ he sighed, walking to her side and putting an arm on her naked shoulders. ’I don’t know. Sending down writings on stone tablets is probably not the best idea, especially since they wouldn’t understand.’

’Come on, we’ll have learned the languages by then.’

’Who said I’d be writing it in theirs? I am proud of my nationality…’

’Which doesn’t exist anymore.’

’It exists, I am not… well, I am dead, but anyway, I’m here, changing things.’ He had to say it every day, or at least every month, to believe it.

She smiled at him, proudly. ’So you are. But you’ll have to wait a few more years. It still doesn’t scare you?’

’What scares me, is how bored I will be if you ask this all the time.’

She wanted to protest, but he didn’t let him. A kiss was always the best was to stop the unnecessary speech.

Of course, speech is never unnecessary, but if one has so much time…

Their warm, soft, naked bodies melted together.

There was no need for clothes now. It was very warm, and maybe they were even unable to get ill. Anyway, it was warm, and there was nobody to see them, except each other. And they didn’t mind.

 

*******

 

The world, again, kept its balance, with the ratio of extremities. Right at the other side of the globe, where the foxlings discovered fire – although they yet had to learn to control it -, exactly at the other side, the other element ruled. Beyond icy cold mountains a white-furred animal learned magic, but a different kind. Their social life was quite closed, they did not like strangers and did not trust anyone. But they helped each other, with all their hearts and even their lives. They learned the hardships of nature, as they slowly developed dwellings that protected them from the frosty wind, more of their skin became visible and they started to make clothes. Of colours white and blue and red, because that was what they knew.

One day one of them walked onto the snowy hills and found a yellow little spot. It was a flower. It could not be used neither for battle nor for magic, and it could not be eaten either, but he picked it up and took it home.

They carved patterns into the ice, which never disappeared. Where they lived was a very small spot, but they never wandered. The cool north wind was their life. They avoided war and conflict because no one knew they existed.

Except those two above.


	15. Cleansed Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two surviving Star City dwellers again have a quick visit in the New World.

_"You can see the world you brought to life"_

 

She had an excruciating pain in her heart.

 

It usually melted away by the visible successes she had, the wonderful surroundings and the wholly loved person who was her companion, but there was one hope in her that could not die. It would not leave, it lingered there like an assassin in the shadows, and sometimes when she watched the sunshine or sunrise it came out, escorting cold tears down her face.

’What is the reason for your sadness?’ Jespar asked one night. ’When did I start formulating sentences like this?’

She laughed. It felt horribly good, letting go of all the pain.  Laughing was maybe one of the best things in her life. ’About one hundred years ago? Or a thousand? I don’t know.’

She could have looked up in her records. She wrote down everything, random thoughts that crossed her mind, her discoveries, there were countless diaries filled with their life here and their previous life back on Earth. When they get back, if they ever get back, she hoped to store them in a safe library of sorts. For somebody to read it.

But who? Who could understand it besides them?

Although they were wrote in many different languages. She had plenty of time to learn.

But she had a question to answer. ’I… I know I should be grateful. I am. All that’s happened to me… it… I am satisfied with it. I don’t age. I know so much, I see so much, I have you. Only that… there is one thing we can never have since we are practically dead. And no, it’s not death, I’m sure we could achieve it somehow if we wanted… when we wanted. But we can never have a family.’ She watched the trees and the sun and the birds, butterflies, the beautiful buildings they had kind of renovated in the last centuries, with accusing eyes. How can everything be so imperfect when it’s all so beautiful? Why can’t happiness just be complete? ’We can never have children.’

*******

 

There are always the ones that want to rule, and the ones that are persecuted.

Now for some reason the round-eared ones were persecuted.

A war was to begin, everyone thought it was inevitable. The red ones with the eyes of a cat developed sharp weapons to shed blood and cause destruction. They wanted to acquire land from the new people who grew crops on their lands and only lived in peace. The foxlings crossed the vast lands and their spies recorded everything they saw in the humans’ (although they called themselves differently, they were the ones that mostly resembled the previous humans) camps. They knew the weak points.

Before their leader was to discuss the plan of the attack with the elders, a two strangers appeared in their headquarters. Their robes would not protect them from harm, their hair was incredibly long and had a much lighter colour than theirs. They spoke of peace and the need to preserve it, that all of mankind would fall if they engaged in a war. That this war would be not only one war, but the beginning of destruction.

The leader adjusted her whiskers. She asked them what kind of religion they belonged to, or what people, since they were very similar to those she wanted to attack, but one of them had pointy ears, like her. She has never seen anyone like them before. Also the way they spoke  - it was different.

’My people need more food. If they have it, why should we not take it? We will spare their lives.’

’How can you know’, the man asked ’that you can spare their lives? What if they resist? Do you trust all your people that they will not give in to aggression?’ He was excited, his words were strong like he cared really much. Sharwaek did not understand. ’Damn it, I can’t believe I’m talking like this. See what an idealist I became?’, the male turned to his companion and showed his teeth, but the other one didn’t seem to be afraid. The change in her face showed that… it showed… so much. These two must have known each other for very long.

Sharwaek hesitated. Why should she trust these strangers? What if they are enemies?

’Trade with them. Make arrangements. You don’t have to kill. Remember: you don’t have to kill.’

’How do you benefit from it?’

’More than you can imagine. Everyone will benefit. Your people’s children, their children, the future generations.’ Sadness crossed the woman’s face.

Sharwaek began to think of them like a man and a woman. No matter how she tried to fight empathy inside her, it began to grow. She didn’t know why, but she felt she should trust them. She was confused, she understood how they spoke but it was different than her people’s speech. She recognized the emotions on their faces, but all the same they were alien. They walked on two legs, like them, they had two eyes and hair and hands, but they did not look like any species in this world.

’You are accusing me of not being responsible enough for my people?’

’We know you are responsible. That’s why we came to ask you. Sometimes you have to think forward into the future that you cannot yet see. We want to make sure that living together without hurting each other is not just an idealistic theory. We don’t want anything, we are not spies. We only ask that you consider.’

’How do you know such words in my language? Where do you come from? I ask again, who are you? Will you not answer?’

’Our names would mean nothing to you.’

’How can you say that? Names mean a lot. They can tell what nation you’re from…’

’We’re from far away.’ The male said, and made that gesture again. It annoyed Sharwaek, she was prepared for them to attack but they stood there in those clothes which would have at most serve as something you would sleep in, they stood like they weren’t afraid of anything.

They were. They were afraid that their advice would not find safe ground in the young leader’s mind.

 

*******

But they did.

The ideas fought with doubts, but in the end, they blossomed, and the two societies were able to live amongst each other. The people of fire and the people of the land. In their historical records, many scripts mention the two strangers, they appeared in various times during their development. Though every time they arose suspicion, they successfully paved the path for harmonic development. The fire mages for example specialised in a way that no wood was needed to create heat, so they did not have to cut out forests.

At many places statues were erected to the two mysterious figures. One time, in the grasslands, a young red-haired boy from the people of the fire saw that they were walking next the statues. It had to be them, they looked so similar. The clothes they wore were different, but they had such light hair, they held each other’s hands and they laughed, looking up at the huge monuments carved of stone.

 

*******

 

’Do I really look like this? Tell me, do I really look like this?’ Jespar Dal’Varek asked, after he could stop laughing.

’Why, did you expect to see a grey old man?’

’I won’t get any greyer than this.’

’Okay, with long beard.’

’At least. Hm. They’ve only seen us once, but this is… this is too far from reality, I’m sorry.’

’Your ego hasn’t changed.’

’I’m talking about you too. You’re much more beautiful in reality.’

’And who the hell cares?’ Glinathra rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe her beauty was still a topic.

’Me?... Well, what should we do with this… if it were made of wood, you could burn it down, but…’

’Noo! Why would you destroy such artistic…well… nevermind, we should just leave it here. Let them watch. They know nothing of us, so everything will be only… theories.’

’I never thought I would become the centre of a religion. Thinking of it, in the past, I would have approved, but now…’

’It’s just a symbol. If anything goes wrong, we’ll come back.’

’Like cultists killing each other, like last time?’

’Yeah…’ she sighed.’ Like last time.

She blamed herself for all these faults. All the people’s faults were hers now. They felt a little like her children. All of them. Sometimes tainted, corrupted, but they could be lead back to the right path.

She turned around, and blinked. She saw a child, staring right at them. ’Uh-oh.’

The boy, instead of being afraid, approached them. He looked at them, then the statues, then back, than at the statues again.

’You don’t see the resemblance either, do you?’ Jespar asked, receiving a murderous glance.

’You are them?’ The child asked. His eyes were so huge and so beautiful, the mixture of brown and green, his pupils changing their size when a shadow was cast on his face by the branches or a bird flew by.

’They want to look like us, yes.’ She said. ’But it doesn’t matter.’

’Is it true that you built that huuuge library in the capital?’

’No…’ she smiled. ’We didn’t build anything.  We just talked to one of your elders. All this statue thing is a bit… exaggerating.’

’Where do you live?’

 _They always ask such impossible questions…_ ’Far away. We rarely come here.’

’And where did you come from?’

This question had been asked from them a thousand times. But now she had the answer.

’We came from a world which was much more horrible. A world where people who had no homes starved on the streets, they were closed out and they were mostly criminals.’ Glimpses of the Undercity crossed her mind. Or... glimpses from any village or city where people lived...

’That sounds really horrible.’

’A world where weapons were the most important, people always fought for land… and there was a thing called money, for which you could buy anything. But the things had unreasonable values. A painting could cost a house.’

’Wow…’

’Or a whole mansion. And the one who painted it could have died of starvation.’

’Why?’

’Because it was not him who got the money.’

’But it won’t happen now, will it?’

’I hope not. If it depends on us… I mean, it depends on you.  You can all shape the world, even now. With your every step.’

’My… uncle says that it is already written what will happen to us.’

’Many people think that, because it’s easier. But where could it be written? There is nobody over you. There is this world and there are the people. What you do with each other determined how you will live. It’s true for your family, your country, and the whole Earth.’

’Earth?’ He tried to pronounce the word but could not, since his speech was so different.

’It’s an old name for this land… I’m sorry.’

’No problem. But… I should go back home. They will start worrying about me.’

Glinathra wanted to hug this boy so hard. His long nose, covered with red fur, soft, pointy ears which could change their direction, huge, deep, intelligent eyes, a sensitive nose, much better than hers. He was so beautiful.

Her children. Her little children.

’Of course. Go. And be safe.’ She laughed a little. ’Walk blessed.’

A crease appeared on the boy’s forehead. ’Blessed by whom?’

Jespar grinned. ’Excellent answer.’ The boy shrugged and turned around, then started to walk home, his shape almost disappeared in the high grass, only two red ears bobbed up and down in the pasture filled with flowers and trees.

He suddenly stopped and turned back. ’Can I ask… what happened to this world you spoke of?’

’It perished. So we want to make sure it does not happen again.’

And their little hope smiled and walked away.

 

 


	16. Breakers of the Cycle

In their unexpected fields of harmony, after a few millennia they received an unexpected guest.

She did not have her usual robe on, her face was visible, but there was still no doubt of who she was. She walked graciously into the temple-like building in the centre of the Star City, which was developed into a research station.

Glinathra was surprised. The Veiled Woman - she still had no other name – looked not different from the humans she knew. Her features showed great intelligence, and her look bore wisdom and sadness.

’It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken.’

’Yes… It’s good to see you again.’ She wouldn’t have thought she would say that. But it was. This woman was one of the only things that linked them back to their world, the one they have lost.

’Likewise. I must say I am surprised by what you’ve achieved. It was not a mistake to save you then. You acted just like I expected.’

Glinathra’s eyes shone with anger she felt a long time ago. ’It has been quite some time since I felt like a pawn. I do not with to experience it again.’

’I thought you have learned to accept a compliment after so much time.’ The Veiled Woman without a veil smiled.

Jespar walked out from his chambers and held  his one’s hand. ’I wanted to thank you. I didn’t have the opportunity last time.’

’You have showed your gratitude. I have come to offer you something.’ Something in her heart started to shine. New, young hope, naive hope, she hasn’t felt it for such a long time… ’Eternity takes its toll on people. If anyone, I should now that, and by now, you know a lot as well. You have shaped this world so it is safe to remain peaceful. You have broken the Cycle. I congratulate you. No, I don’t need your thanks. Not now. For I know how hard it is to see so many lives and only watch, without them noticing you. If you wish for it… I can offer you a chance to die. You will cease to become fleshless. I can give you back your bodies, in the state they were when you lost them. Naturally, it means that they will perish, when the time comes, as fast as that of any mortal’s.’

Her nonexistent heart was beating so hard hearing the promise of receiving a real one after such a long time.

A mortal’s life. A new chance. Old and new.

’We could go back to the Earth…’

’You could.’

Gasping, she looked at Jespar. She saw the same hope reflected in her eyes. Maybe secretly it was what she’s been waiting for for so long…

She’s been fleshless for so long. She grew accustomed to it. But inside she did not want to be a god. Never.

They could act like the humans they were there. They could grow old together. And die together.

Grow old together.

Images rushed through her mind. A door had been opened and such sheer light poured in through it, it was almost impossible to see. She looked into her loved one’s eyes and their eyes entwined and they both nodded in agreement, holding onto each other’s hands so hard.

’It would be the greatest gift.’

’It’s the least that I can give you’, the Veiled Woman smiled.

 

*******

 

They said goodbye to everything. They collected what they thought most important and piled them up in the escape pods. Thousands of papers, letters, records, translations, books…

The steel dragon was programmed to follow them in a few weeks’ time. It would be suspicious if two orbs crashed into the ground, and at the same time, a mysterious metal construction also arrived. They have developed it so that it could create an invisibility sphere. It was also applied to the pods. But the hole they would create on the ground could not be hidden.

The screaming sunshine, the wonderful air, the magnificent buildings – their home for millennia. The place where they lived most of their life – even if it was death. And now they had the chance to be alive again.

The same journey, again.

Smiling at each other from the brink of death.

Closing the doors.

Memories of death and fear and hope… hopes of completion…

Hope and trust in powers they still did not completely understand...

Flying...

 

*******

 

The fleshless bodies climbed out of the pods. They were in the middle of nowhere. The Veiled Woman’s words rang in their minds. ’The first settlement you will find north from there, about five miles away.’ Next to the constructions lay two bodies. The same as they were so long ago.

Jespar looked at Glinahtra’s body and remembered the strange room before they got on the train, int he Living Temple. Sorry for the drama back there. Mysterious corpses.

Glinathra looked at Jespar’s body and remembered the fire. The scent of burnt flesh. The hatred for Adila, the hatred for the whole world. Shiver. Unworthy of now, unworthy of this world. It was over. All of it.

They held each other’s hands as their images fell into pieces and disappeared into nothingness. Fleshless. You are nothing. You are not you.

It was all over.

 

*******

 

The bodies remembered horrible, excruciating pain. Water, and fire, struggling for life. Their first breath was desperate, like that of a newborn. Than came the surprise that they were alive.  
Actually, arrive.

Glinathra stared up at the stars. Firstly she moved her hands, grasped the soil beneath her. She breathed and breathed. Cold, fresh air filled her lungs. Her stomach still remembered the apple she had eaten when Sirius was still sleeping, but…

Her blood was so fast and so hot. She blinked and breathed, looked around, and watched the world so close. It could be touched, it was right under her, around her…

Jespar Dal’Varek got up, no scorch marks on his skin. He wore the same coat as back then.

Their souls carefully scratched the surface of the body they got back again. It felt foreign, yet familiar, all the same. Like going back to a place you've seen long ago.

It was so long ago.

Before they knew it, they were in each other’s arms, in a hug so strong that it was almost an obstacle to breathing.

Warm, safe and secure. She smiled with a quality of gladness no words could describe in any language she could speak. Her breath caressed his neck, her hands his face, his shoulders, his everything. She had to touch him to believe he was real. Real like she was, ready to die, but it was not a sacrifice, it was a blessing, this was more than worth dying for…

But no, she was not ready to die yet. She had so many things to do in this world.

’I love you’, she whispered. All these three words were still powerful enough to express what she wanted to say. And her hands closed around him. She loved him, she loved the whole existence.

She now really saw the difference between existing and living.

 

*******

 

Raindrops smashed against the windows, and the bartender looked at the two figures approaching. They seemed very delighted, despite that all their clothing and hair was completely soaked. He was happy since everything that would drag him out of the everyday exhaustion was good.

Even though every guest was work, they were also people.

With a healthy amount of suspicion he opened the door for them.

He tried not to look so startled. _It’s the guests who firstly have to say greetings_ , he tried to tell himself, to justify him falling so silent.

’Good evening’, the man started. Drops of water were falling on  the ground. They had no raincoats, no hoods whatsoever. How could they go on a journey like that? ’Could you give a room for us? Just one night, and excuse us for the late arrival.’

His accent was strange. Also his comrade’s long ears. ’May the fire of the homestead keep you safe,’ the barkeep nodded with his head. ’Come in.’

They walked in, hand-in-hand, drawing a line of raindrops after themselves, exhausted, but their eyes nevertheless shining of excitement and expectations.

Shanili, a joyous girl, marched out of the kitchen, balancing three plates and a dozen glasses in her hands. She quickly handed them out and showed a great interest in the newly arrived guests. ’Can I tend to them, master, please, I am so bored, I have had  no interesting job today’, she pleaded, and he had to roll his eyes and give in again. With a smile, he let the girl do her work. She was so enthusiastic, the best workforce, and one of the best people he knew.

’Do you come from far away? Can I suggest to you the house’s offer? It’s very tasty, I tried it. You’re not hungry? I don’t believe you. Okay, okay, only a room… fine... what do we have? Oh, what a shame, we only have a one-bed room free for tonight. I told the master we should not accept all those arrogant aristocrats’, she whispered, then shook her head.

’That will be fine’, the man with white hair said. Shanili raised her eyebrows.

’What, one of you will be sleeping on the floor? It’s kind of cold this time of the year. Okay, okay, I am not asking, I’m not asking anything…’ she chattered, with a mischievous smile on her face. The long-eared woman’s smile was so… honest. And clean. She was not from around here.

’What can you provide for the service?’ Shanili asked, like a routine question. The pair looked at each other and the man started to search for something in a tiny pouch, finally he put a dozen little shiny coins on the table.   Shanili admired them with true curiosity. ’What are these? Damn, these are real artefacts! They’re beautiful… master, can I keep some of them?’

’Of course, Shan.’ He sighed, walked together and shot a glance at the round-shaped things as well. ’There are some inscriptions… What language are they in?’

’A very old one. Just… remnants of the past. We thought they might be better to be kept than thrown away.’

’Naturally, we can accept it. Have a good night, if you do not wish anything else.’

The two said thanks and walked up the stairs. Again, hand-in-hand. They were ominously connected, but somehow he felt no one should be afraid of them.

Shanili admired the strange objects for hours, and the bartender watched her happily. She always made him remember his daughter, but she was less and less sad every time.

 

*******

 

’That’s evidently the best purpose for them’, said Jespar when they've reached their room. The homelike milieu of the room helped rest his soul and make it feel like this whole place belonged to him a little.

Walls. Wooden walls, furniture. Patterns. They always returned and people could not live without them. Without beauty. His hands caressed the ornamented, manufactured pieces of wood. Trying to connect what he saw to the things he'd seen in the previous world.

Not the same. Never the same. Familiar, but never the same.

Though his thoughts could not be concentrated on the objects around him.

 He turned to his companion, and it glimpsed through his mind that his life turned out to be so much more wonderful, than it was to be expected. 

'Did you realize that our bodies only touched when they... when they practically didn't exist?'

Glin turned towards him with a smile he knew very well. But he believed he'd never seen her so glad. 'That's the only hing you can think of?' She walked towards him, entwining him into an embrace so warm and so vivid, his senses had yet to adjust to the sudden sensations of living. It was like being born again. Every millimeter of his skin had to adjust to the feeling of being touched by the one he'd loved and touched for so many years. But they'd only been shadows of themselves. If that felt so fantastic, what awaited them now?

His eyes shone of the possibility that occurred in his mind. 'No', he kissed her nose, her cheeks and looked into her eyes with an expectation and anticipation of saying words that would move her to tears. 'I am also thinking of the fact that you wanted a family. You said we have no chance to have one. Well, now we have.' _And really, am I ready for this?_ After all this time, he was still not sure. But the success was there, he realized seeing the tiny little drops of salty water appearing in her beautiful greenish eyes, pouring down to the shy smile forming on her lips.

His soul was unbelievably easy as they collapsed on the bed. So many times it has happened before, but never like this... Part of him regretted that they couldn't live forever. But they would live forever in their children, and that was more than he'd ever hoped for. Never before had he kissed her and touched her thinking so deeply that it held a greater purpose than the pleasure of himself and her, he'd believed it was the most, the highest ecstatic state he could reach, but now it was all overwritten. His mind still didn't completely process that something feeling  so good can have such consequences. But nevertheless, he was not afraid of the consequences. Which was rare. 

Their moans filled the room like they did in the Dancing Nomad such a long time ago. He  wondered then what people thought of it now, and that time he laughed because he did not care.

He missed the Dancing Nomad. A lot.

Hugging her, he whispered into her ears that they might build a new inn sometime, somewhere.

'And what would we call it?'

'Is it always the most important question?', he sighed. 'You know, I became too sensitive. I will always miss the old one.'

'The old one?'

'You know...'

She knew, of course. 'But it will be a different one, without you drinking yourself to death and seducing random women.'

He laughed. It felt so ridiculous that he used to be like this. Why did she even care about him, he often wondered. But it was the best of luck that she did.

 

*******

 

The morning caught them like little children of the new day. She was sitting beside him by a desk and was painting on a paper the sunrays as they naturally painted their surroundings in gold and silver and emphasized everything's natural colour. The first thing that popped into his mind was the last night.

He might be a father right now.

The thought struck him so strong that for a few moments he had to regain his breath. But looking at her now, the light-haired, almost divine figure which really started to resemble those over-exaggerated statues of them, told him not to worry about anything.

For they have broken the Cycle. Two nonexistent beings, broke something that has been going on for ages. That's what he was capable of. To witness this. To be the part of this.

Sometimes it was worth to be idealistic.

They put on their clothes, clean, light and comfortable, went down the stairs and asked for some breakfast. After eating the cheese and sweets and drinking the milk she payed with her voice. She sang bard songs she'd learned before their time, and the citizens' in the inn watcher her eagerly. They did not clap afterwords, their gaze and smile was enough of a reward in itself. She sang the Song of the Winter Sky and she saw the tears in their eyes, as they lived the pain the girl experienced in the song. So did Glinathra, as did she all the time she sang it, and she always would, even for the millionth time. She sang Pyrean songs for which she did not know the melody, but invented it herself. She had so many time to translate the lyrics.

She still barely believed it was possible, to live without coins, to be dependent on something so cold and unemotional. In this world people recognized what anyone needed, and what was necessary to provide. Their interests mingled with each other, providing they didn't want to exclude the weaker.

No one was weaker. Everybody was good at different things.

She prayed - no, she hoped - this would never change and they would be able to keep this emerald, this ruby, this new island of peace they've created free from corruption.

She thanked the Veiled Woman for it. No matter what hardships she had to face because of her in the past, she was thankful, because she got back what she wanted so much: Life. Not only hers... Not one life, but three. At least. She was thankful for her daughter. For some reason she felt she would have a daughter. Even though she knew that this feeling cannot be trusted, she knew. She smiled when she thought of her. The new chance for life, the ultimate solution she never hoped for, which was more important than endless life. The feeling of happy sacrifice that was yet unfamiliar. To be ready to let yourself go when you know that what will follow will not create the same mistakes over and over. That what you've created will go on to preserve peace and prosperity, and even though it won't be you who sees it, it WILL turn out to be right. Always.

She planned to say this to her daughter over and over again.

For now she was just happy waiting for her. The greatest treasure.

Okay, the second greatest treasure... No, they could not be rated. Both were of the same value to her: endless.


End file.
